


Here Be Dragons

by littleotter73



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series Finale, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25195969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: On a cold, rainy, late autumn day in North Wales, four friends and their army of Slayers and witches confront a squadron of extradimensional dragons ravaging the countryside. While the battle goes according to plan, one falls and, without a known antidote, her life hangs in the balance. In a race against time, declarations of love are professed and a desperate search for a cure has the Scoobies and their allies reaching back into Slayer history for answers.
Relationships: Rupert Giles/Buffy Summers
Comments: 64
Kudos: 61
Collections: Summer of Giles





	1. Firedrakes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: For fun, not profit  
> Beta: Many thanks to il_mio_capitano, who always has my back and pushes me hard.

Chapter 1: Firedrakes

With adrenaline pumping and spirits high, the four friends felt a familiar sense of camaraderie as they took to their positions and readied to confront their enemy in the late autumn drizzle. The last time they had joined forces in combat was to face the First and its Turok-Han army on the Mouth of Hell. This time, the reason wasn’t quite so dire. This time, they just needed the combination of their individual talents in order to defeat their foe and send them back to their dimension — which was good, because while they could not deny feelings of excitement at the thrill of the hunt and the comfort of working together once again, not one of them wanted to face another apocalypse any time soon.

It was like old times, only it wasn’t, because this time they had a small battle-ready army, tactics, and logistics behind them.

Xander commanded from the hilltop, his position one of oversight. Buffy headed the direct assault with her elite force of Slayers. Willow worked with two other witches to create the portal to send their firedrakes back to their dimension, and Giles led a group of senior Slayers in protecting Willow and her compatriots against a diving and swooping squadron of the winged beasts who were hellbent on stopping their efforts.

Buffy looked to her crew of Slayers and smiled. They had just finished their offensive, having taken out three of the firedrakes and were now joining Giles and his team. 

“Let’s see if we can hold them without taking any more of them out,” Giles called to her over the cacophony of roars and ear-splitting shrieks coming from overhead.

Buffy was skeptical. There had been fifteen of these beasties when they started, breathing fire and attacking with razor-sharp, venomous talons. They’d somehow escaped their dimension and were now feeding off the local livestock populations in rural north Wales. Extremely territorial, they attacked anyone who ventured into the valley they’d claimed as their own, and Buffy was damned if they were going to incur any losses. If a few more of these firedrakes had to fall in order to get the rest through the portal when it opened, so be it, but she gave Giles a thumbs up in response.

With his attention focused on her, Giles didn’t notice one of the dragon-like creatures swooping down from its formation and targeting him.

“Giles!” she called over the thundering noise of wings flapping overhead. “Up high!”

He raised his shield over his head before looking around for the threat, and it was a good thing he did as the drake tried to grab him with its powerful talons, but instead scraped them along the metal shield. He gave her a reassuring smile before focusing on the battle and regrouping with his band of Slayers.

The battle raged on for another half hour, sending the Slayer army scattering to regroup and try new defensive tactics as the firedrakes gained the upper hand by setting fire to the land and separating the two groups. As the weather deteriorated, the heavens opened up and the winds started to gust, shifting the tide of fortune against their winged foe, who now had trouble staying in formation and attacking with accuracy. The steady rainfall staunched the fires that dotted the battlefield and the smoke and heavy mist combined to form a fog over the floor of the valley, limiting visibility and providing a natural camouflage for the army on the ground. As a result, four more of the flying reptiles fell from the sky to their deaths as crossbow bolts tore their wings and pierced through their naturally armored torsos as the opportunistic Slayers took advantage of the cover and the craggy terrain to gain the upper hand.

The respite from the firedrakes’ onslaught allowed enough time for Willow and her fellow magick users to properly focus their powers. Finally, a white shockwave reverberated across the valley as the portal opened and sucked the remaining beasts back to their dimension.

There were no cheers of joy, just mumbled congratulations for a hard-fought victory as the troops made their way back up to the command area and mobile hospital.

Wiping the grimy mix of soot and rainwater from his face, Giles took a moment to survey the battlefield before wandering over to a mortally injured firedrake, struggling to breathe as it lay on its side. It warily watched him approach, it’s ruby red eye watering in agony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered before dealing the killing blow to put it out of its misery. He never wanted to see any creature in pain, preferring the clean kill, and at those times when it wasn’t possible, he and Buffy usually performed the cleanup. It was part of their duty.

With everything else looking in order, he tiredly headed towards the rendezvous point up the mountain. When he crested the hill and made it back to the wooded grove, he found Willow and Xander at the makeshift command station surrounded by several battle-weary young Slayers hanging about, recounting their experiences.

“Hey, Giles, glad you finally made it!” Xander greeted with a friendly smile and a towel as the Head Watcher entered the command tent, dripping wet from the rain.

“Thank you. Is everyone accounted for?” he asked, dropping his shield to the ground.

“Three Slayers with some nasty injuries, but nothing life-threatening. The rest are just banged up a bit.”

“Who are the three?” he asked, taking the bottle of water offered to him by one of the Slayers in the tent.

“Cassy, Gabrielle, and Preethi,” Xander responded.

Gabrielle had been assigned to Buffy. Cassy and Preethi were from his unit.

“How bad?” he asked.

“Cassy has a bad concussion. The med staff is keeping an eye on her. Gabrielle has a complex fracture of the fibula. Pretty nasty. She’s already on her way to the hospital now. And Preethi dislocated her shoulder and elbow. Everything is back in place. She’ll be okay in the morning. We’re just a little worried about the second-degree burn on her back, but the medics have cleaned it up, applied ointment, and have covered it with gauze. They’re going to keep her and Cassy overnight at a hotel about fifteen miles from here for observation. The rest have been cleared to go back to London.”

Giles nodded “I’ll go talk to them in a bit. Is Buffy with Gabrielle?”

“No. We thought she was bringing up the rear with you.”

Giles turned and looked down into the valley with worry, the visibility still very poor.

“You know the Buffster,” Xander stated reassuringly. “She’s probably down there canvassing the battlefield making sure no one got left behind.”

“Probably,” Giles responded with uncertainty, still searching the battlefield.

Though the visibility was poor, Xander picked up the spyglass and surveyed the valley floor and the path up leading up to their camp. He shook his head and picked up the walkie-talkie, “Nighthawk to Chosen One, do you copy? Over.” He repeated himself several times, and after having gotten no response, he looked up at Giles with trepidation.

“Perhaps she bypassed us and went to check on the girls. Gabrielle really was in a bad way,” Willow suggested optimistically and Giles excused himself before making his way over to the mess tent where the Slayers congregated, trying to stay dry and warm as they drank hot chocolate or tea and recounted their exploits during the battle.

“Alessandra,” he called when he located Buffy’s second. “Might I have a word?”

“Sure Mr Giles,” she answered, jumping up from the table to speak with him. They wandered over to a private area.

“Have you seen Buffy?” he asked.

“No, not since we were down on the battlefield. After the portal closed, I surveyed my team and found Gabrielle. It was... bad. We triaged as best we could and brought her back right away to the medical tent. We just sat down to get something warm after having seen her off to hospital. We thought Buffy was with you.”

“No, I lost sight of her,” Giles responded, shaking his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “I’m heading back down-”

“We’ll go with you,” Alessandra stated, placing a hand on his arm. “Jas, Lena, Mei!” she called to the strongest members of her team. “Grab your weapons and walkie-talkies and come with me.”

\-----------

Buffy hoisted herself up from behind a boulder, wincing at the pain in her head and left shoulder. She was a mess, wet and muddy from having lain prone and unconscious on the ground in the pouring rain for god knows how long. The gash above her left eye streamed blood down her face in rivulets as it mixed with the rainwater. She’d been knocked into the boulder and then onto the ground by one of the firedrakes after she’d shot it down with her crossbow. The beast had been about to hurl fire as it started a pass around her group of Slayers, but she’d pierced the left wing twice after a quick reload of her crossbow and the firedrake had lost control. 

In a last-ditch effort, the drake had spotted its attacker and made an effort to target Buffy in its crash path. Ditching her crossbow, she’d pulled her sword from the scabbard on her back and readied herself for the assault. Gravity and the firedrake’s momentum had it coming in fast and she’d steadied her nerves. When the flying lizard had gotten close enough, she’d braced for impact and held her sword steady while the great beast impaled itself on the blade. The impact and the momentum had thrown her into the boulder and she’d cracked her head against it before falling to the ground.

Buffy had taken the full force of the trauma on her left shoulder. She was fairly certain it was broken, her arm hanging limply at her side. Using her right arm to gingerly cradle her left against her torso, she looped her thumb through a belt loop on her jeans to keep her arm close. It didn’t help much. Her elbow really needed to be supported and her arm needed to be secured against her body to prevent movement, but she did what she could.

When she looked down at her good hand, she noticed fresh blood on it and gingerly turned her neck to glance at her shoulder. Her jacket and shirt had been torn through and she was bleeding pretty steadily. She prodded her shoulder with her fingers to see if she had a complex fracture, but found no evidence of it and, sighing with relief, she figured she must have hit something sharp during her fall to the ground.

The firedrake lay a few yards away with the hilt of Buffy’s sword sticking out of its neck. With great effort, she made her way over and tried to pull the sword out one-handed, but she was too tired and weak to retrieve it.

“Damn,” she grunted from the effort as she leaned over, desperately trying to take in more oxygen. The pain in her shoulder spiked at the full inflation of her lungs and she fell to her knees in agony. There was no way she could take in a deep enough breath and she was in serious danger of hyperventilating. Focusing her efforts, she tried the technique of holding her breath for ten to fifteen seconds before letting it out and taking a breath. After a few cycles, she wasn’t sure if she was going to pass out again from lack of oxygen or from the shooting pain.

When she finally got her breathing back under control, she forced herself back to the safety of the boulder. Shaking from a combination of the cold, the intense agony, and sheer physical exhaustion, Buffy stared up the hill towards the command area. There was no way she was going to get up there on her own. She also realized that she had no way of letting her friends and colleagues know that she was still down in the valley and in need of help. Sometime during the fight, she’d lost her walkie-talkie and she’d left her cell phone up in the command tent.

There wasn’t much she could do, and as she saw it, she had two options. One, she could wait for someone to find her. Which sounded like a fine plan, if only it wasn’t cold and pissing rain. She was quite certain that hypothermia was sure to set in soon. She knew her absence would be noticed and a rescue party formed, however, she wasn’t sure when that would be, and without a watch, she wasn’t sure how long she’d lain unconscious and alone on the valley floor. Two, she could try to use the bond she shared with Giles to guide him to her. It was something they’d been working on as time allowed over the past couple of years since the destruction of Sunnydale.

Always action-girl, Buffy decided on the latter. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the boulder and tried to focus on her Watcher. Losing focus to the infernal shaking due to the cold and the amplified the pain in her head and shoulder, she lost the battle with gravity and, as her legs gave out, slid down the boulder onto the cold, muddy ground.

Resolved to her situation, Buffy closed her eyes and resigned herself to waiting for rescue. A few minutes later, she heard some noise off in the distance. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw an outline of a figure through the mist and smoke, though she couldn’t tell whether it was real or whether she was hallucinating.

“Buffy?” A voice called. She vaguely thought the voice sounded familiar, but she was rapidly losing the battle to stay conscious. She wanted to call back and let the person know that she was alive and needed help, but the struggle was too great.

“Buffy!” The voice called again, sharper this time and, as she forced her eyes open again and raised her head, she saw Giles running towards her. “Dear lord, Buffy!” he exclaimed, seeing the state of her.

“Giles?” she whispered when he dropped to his knees next to her.

“Yes. I’m here. Can you move?”

“So… tired. Hurt,” she breathed, her eyes closing. “Cold.”

“Stay with me, Buffy!” he commanded and she opened her eyes to look at him again. He kept his eyes trained on hers as he pulled out his walkie-talkie. “Xander, do you read me? Xander?”

“Loud and clear, Giles,” he answered.

“Send the Rover down. Buffy is gravely injured.”

“Throw up the flair. We’ll find you.”

“Be careful. It’s awfully boggy down here.”

“Roger that.”

Placing the walkie-talkie on the boulder, he reached into his bag, pulled out the flare gun, and sent up the signal before redirecting his attention back to his wounded Slayer. Her eyes had closed again and when he reached out to wake her, he noticed the fresh flow of blood coming from her shoulder.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, but it was when he started to remove her jacket that he noticed the pattern of the tears in the fabric. “Oh, bloody Christ!” 

He quickly shucked off his coat and removed his button-down shirt, ripping off a large strip from the bottom before trying to staunch the bleeding with it.

Buffy gasped and let out a harsh groan.

“Good,” Giles said softly. “You’re still with me.”

“Stop pressing… so… hard!” she growled, her dark green eyes pleading with his as she brought her right hand up and grabbed the collar of his undershirt. “Broken.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to. The bleeding won’t stop.”

She tried to sit up properly, but he kept the pressure on her shoulder and she relented and rested back against the boulder. “Yeah… not healing right,” she acknowledged.

“I know. We need to get you to hospital.”

“Giles-”

“At least to get the bleeding to stop and to get you stitched up. I am worried about blood loss and shock.”

“Medics-”

“Don’t have a sterile environment to do surgery. Christ, you’ve already bled through the shirt.”

“Rain…”

“Doesn’t help, I know.”

“Giles… I’m tired.”

“Stay with me, Buffy,” he entreated, ripping another strip from his shirt, though it was soaked from the rain and wouldn’t do much to help with the bleeding. Taking out his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped away the blood from her forehead and her face. “How’s your head?”

“Achey,” she grunted. “Shoulder… is worse.”

“I know. Help is on the way.” He looked towards the camp and swallowed the lump in his throat. It wasn’t looking good at the moment.

Through the smoke and fog came Xander and Alessandra and her team.

“Giles!” Xander called as he approached.

“Thank god you’re here!” he answered, the relief visible in his posture. Looking around he asked, “Where’s the car?”

“About 100 yards up. You were right. It’s too boggy to get the Rover down here. I didn’t want to risk getting the tires stuck in the mud. How’s the patient?”

“We need to move her to a clean environment and get her stabilized.” Giles kept his voice even, not wanting to alarm Buffy any further, but he made sure to catch his friend’s eye and convey the severity of the situation.

Xander took a look at Buffy and, after assessing her injuries, felt his panic rise. Clearing his throat, he answered in as even a tone as he could, “Gotcha. I sent our lead medic and our most experienced healer back to the cottage just in case. I’ll radio ahead to them to know the situation.” Turning to the squad leader, he commanded, “Alessandra, help Giles get Buffy onto the stretcher.”

As gently as they could, Giles and Alessandra placed Buffy on the stretcher, but she groaned with the movement, her eyes finding her Watcher’s to convey her pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“S’okay,” she responded.

The downpour was quickly turning into a deluge and as Jas and Lena picked up the ends of the stretcher, he barked, “Be careful with her and mind the terrain. The ground is quickly turning into a quagmire.”

Noticing the hilt of her sword sticking out of the nearby firedrake, Giles made his way over to retrieve it. It pulled away from the flesh with ease and grimaced when he noticed that the end of the sword had dissolved in the acidic dragon blood.

“That Slayer healing should kick in soon, right?” Xander asked as he approached Giles. “I mean we just need to get her out of the weather and stitched up and then she’ll be fine.” His voice was pleading for reassurance.

Turning from view and taking in a ragged breath, Giles answered, “I-I don’t know. Her shoulder was torn open by the firedrake’s claws.”

Xander looked grim. When firedrakes felt threatened or were hunting, their talons filled with venom, ready to inject their prey upon strike. They had all been briefed on the strengths and vulnerabilities of the demons and warned against the swooping attacks and the venomous talons. The worst of it was knowing there was no antidote since the beasts were not native to this dimension.

“What do we do?” he asked, his voice small.

Giles raised his head to the heavens, the rain pelting hard against his face. He reached for his glasses wanting to wipe them in nervous habit, but he’d forgone them in favor of his contact lenses for the battle.

“Giles?”

Squaring his shoulders, he tossed aside the broken sword in disgust and answered, “The only things we can do at the moment, Xander: triage and research,” before following the group of Slayers who were taking Buffy to the Range Rover.

When he arrived at the SUV, he quickly checked on his Slayer. The strain from being moved had caused her to lose consciousness, but he could see her shallow breaths beneath the blanket she had been covered with. Jas gave him a slight nod as she kept pressure on Buffy’s bleeding shoulder, indicating that they were ready for transport.

Grabbing an axe from the weapons chest he kept in the back, Giles headed over to another fallen firedrake. In two quick, fluid movements, he chopped off two of the giant claws and pocketed them.

Xander tilted his head in question. “Trophy?”

“Research. At first, I thought we could make an antivenom.” He rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. “But, the process takes too long. Two months or more.” He glanced into the Rover at Buffy. “She doesn’t have that kind of time”

“I can take them back to HQ and get the scientific team right on it. Maybe there is some sort of shortcut the Council science dweebs know about.”

“It’s a four hour trip,” Giles countered. He really didn’t see the point.

“Then I best get going now.”

He knew he wasn’t going to change Xander’s mind and removed one of the claws from his pocket. Handing it over to him he said, “Send the Slayers back to London, but leave a small team here. I may have need of them. They can stay at the West Arms in the village.”

“The four of us would be honored to stay, Mr Giles,” Alessandra said, volunteering her troop as she approached the two men.

Giles looked at each of the Slayers, their resolve written on their faces, and nodded in acceptance.

“Where do you want Willow?” Xander asked.

“I could use her here, to be honest. Her skills in research, magicks, and chemistry will be invaluable, and Buffy will need some familiar faces surrounding her.”

“I’ll brief her when we get up the hill and drop her off at the cottage on my way back to London.” Looking around the battlefield he asked. “What do you want to do about this mess?”

Climbing into the back of the Rover, Giles’ eyes never left his fallen Slayer as he took up his vigil next to her in the cramped cargo area. “We’ll think of something tomorrow,” he answered quietly, his thoughts consumed by the gravity of Buffy’s situation.

  
  



	2. Triage

Chapter 2: Triage

Alessandra pulled the Rover into the drive and stopped right next to the front door of the cottage where Giles, Buffy, Willow, and Xander had set up base and assessed the situation prior to the battle with the firedrakes. It had been the first time they’d been together planning a major engagement since they took the fight to the First in Sunnydale. There had been a sense of excitement and camaraderie that had been lost in the two years since. Not that they weren’t friends, but just because they had moved in different directions since taking on their roles within the new Council, and any threats to the world had been ones individual Active Slayers had been able to handle on their own. The firedrakes, while making their new home in rural Northern Wales weren’t a global threat, were on the verge of making their presence known outside of the region, which would then become a much larger and more complicated issue to deal with.

There had been late nights filled with research and strategy planning, and early morning reconnaissance trips out to the valley to see the damage and destruction for themselves and to catch a glimpse at their foe. The firedrakes had been a majestic sight to behold, something out of a fairytale book, only there were no knights in shining armor to protect the farmers and their livestock. The valley had become a scarred and pockmarked warzone. Here, indeed, be dragons, Giles had thought upon first glance.

He followed the Slayer team as they carefully moved Buffy into the cottage.

“Set her down on the kitchen table,” the medic directed as he pulled on some protective gloves.

Alice, the senior healer of the expedition, pulled her long red hair into a rough ponytail and ran over to assess Buffy’s condition. “Christ, Terry, you should send her to hospital!” she stated, looking at the state of their patient.

Terry gave her a good glare before starting his assessment of the wounded Senior Slayer. He was a former army orthopedic surgeon and field medic, who left the military to join the Council upon learning that his youngest sister had been activated as a Slayer.

“They can only help in stopping the bleeding and setting the shoulder and we can do that here,” Giles insisted as he quickly pulled off his coat and tossed it aside. “After that, her only hope is that we find a way to stop the venom from killing her and we simply  _ cannot _ do that with traditional doctors and nurses milling about.”

He was acting very clinically, but he needed to focus on the problem at hand and not on  _ who _ was involved in that problem. As long as his mind was busy processing logistics and focusing on solving the issue, he could keep it together.

“She’s going to need blood,” Alice countered, following behind him as he made his way over to the kitchen sink.

“She can have mine. We share the same blood type,” Giles said, pushing up his sleeve.

“I’m O negative, so I can donate too,” Willow added, heading over to the medical kit to pull out some donation packets.

“It might not be enough,” Alice warned. “She’s already lost a lot of blood and now you’re talking surgery.”

“I can donate 2 units,” Giles offered, washing his hands. “Willow can the one.”

“I’m O neg as well,” Jas volunteered. “And being a Slayer, I’ll replenish faster, so I can continue to give.”

“Thank you, Jas,” he replied, drying his hands on a clean dish towel as he made his way to the table where Terry was taking a look at Buffy’s shoulder.

“She should be healing already, but she’s not stopped bleeding and the bone hasn’t even begun to start to knit together,” he said upon examination, raising his concerns.

“You can see there that the separation is too great,” Giles observed, pointing to the exposed bone. “You’re going to have to set it.”

“I don’t have the tools for an internal fixation,” Terry replied. “Although, at this point, I’m more worried about the bleeding. It should have stopped by now.”

Shaking his head, Giles suggested, “The venom may be acting as an anticoagulant,”

“God, I hope not. I’m going to go in and take a look. Alice, could you please perform the spell to keep her unconscious?”

The healer approached the table and placed her hand over Buffy’s forehead. Chanting in Greek, she performed the spell, and Buffy’s body, which had retained some rigidity from the pain even while unconscious, finally went limp.

“Come on, ladies,” Alessandra called to her team. “We’re not needed here. Giles, we’ll be at the West Arms should you need us.”

He nodded his assent.

“I’ll join you there as soon as I am done,” Jas replied, pointing to the blood collection kit she was currently attached to. 

Giles pulled up a chair to sit next to Buffy while Terry prepped for surgery. He took her hand between his and placed his forehead on them as he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about how pale she looked or how vulnerable she was lying there on the table waiting to undergo exploratory surgery in a makeshift surgery in the kitchen of a cottage far from their home base in London. He wanted to be positive. He wanted to believe that she could beat this, but he had no idea what the cure was. Nor did he know how long it would take for the venom to attack her organs and eventually kill her.

“Ready?” Alice asked him, pulling him from his thoughts.

Giles lifted his head and opened his eyes. “Hmm?”

Alice held up the blood collection kit and he acknowledged her with a slight nod, presenting his right arm. She was gentle. Giles barely noticed the prick of the needle and focused his attention back on Buffy. His Slayer. His friend. His partner. Once she was through surgery and stable, he would begin his research anew. Thankfully he’d brought all their research material and his notes on the firedrakes with him. Of course, if he couldn’t find anything new within, he could always call Dawn to assist him with the research.

“Shit!” he exclaimed aloud.

“What is it?” Willow asked, startled from her chair by the island.

“Dawn,” he sighed, his eyes falling back onto Buffy. “I need to let her know.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I…” He closed his eyes and tried to think. “She’ll want to come here and I know that is what she should do in case…” he couldn’t finish his thought. Instead, he took in a deep breath and said, “But we need her… there. We… I may need her to go to the Underground Archives.”

“Xander can help with that. Dawn can guide him over the phone to whatever book we need.”

Dawn was independently finishing up her high school studies and interning as a research assistant within the new Council. She was intimately familiar with the Underground Archives which were conveniently housed in one of the abandoned Underground stations on the Piccadilly line and obviously spared destruction when the First’s henchmen blew up the old Council buildings.

He opened his eyes. “I suppose that’ll do,” he said. He knew Xander was perfectly capable, but recently he came to rely more on Dawn for research. She had proven herself to be a valuable member of their team when it came to cross-referencing. She also had a knack for picking up languages, which came in very handy when dealing with the many different types of manuals, tomes, bestiaries, demonology texts and other books they required to do their jobs.

“Do you really need me here, Giles?” she asked. “I mean, I want to be here, but if you need someone in London-”

He sighed. “I do need you here, Willow. Dragons… firedrakes… they are magickal beasts and it may well be that we will need our magickal talents to heal Buffy. I-I just don’t know.” Taking a moment to squeeze the ball in his right hand to help pump more blood into the bag, he decided, “Xander is on his way. Please call Dawn and let her know the situation and have one of the Watchers-in-Training drive her here. It will be faster.”

Terry coughed discreetly, and Giles turned his attention to him. “I’m going to start the surgery now,” the medic told him and he nodded in acknowledgement.

Several hours, an artery repair, and three units of blood transfused later, Buffy rested under sedation in the upper back bedroom of the cottage. The gash on her forehead had been closed with surgical glue to minimize scarring and covered with a bandage. Giles sat in a chair by the bed searching through one of his books for any information on the firedrake venom. A glass of orange juice and a half-eaten biscuit sat on the nightstand next to him to help raise his blood sugar levels after donating blood. Night had fallen and he was having trouble reading in the dim light from the lamp beside him. He was physically and emotionally exhausted.

“How’s our patient?” Willow asked as she entered the room with a cup of herbal tea and set it beside him on the table.

“Hasn’t stirred yet. Alice expects the magick sedative to wear off in a few hours.”

Willow caressed Buffy’s forehead and studied her with a sad smile. “Any luck with the research?” she finally asked Giles.

“Nothing yet, I’m afraid. You?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I called our contacts at the Bodleian Library and asked them to do a search. Maybe something will come up in one of the Medieval manuscripts.”

He nodded and took a sip of the tea.

“Dawn will be here mid-morning,” Willow informed him, leaning against the dresser. 

“Good. How’d she take the news?”

“You know, she’s panicking, but she’s like you, she went straight into research mode.”

A slight but proud grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he set the mug down on the table beside him. “She’ll make a good Watcher.”

Willow nodded in agreement and a few moments passed quietly between them before she observed, “You’re exhausted. You should get some rest.”

“I know,” he replied softly, pulling off his glasses and letting his book drop onto his lap. “I know I am no good to her right now. The words run together and I can’t seem to focus. But I just… can’t sit here and do nothing.”

“Go into the room next door and get a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll watch over her and continue with the research.”

He shook his head. There was no way he was going to leave Buffy’s side, not now, not until he found a cure. Part of him knew he was being irrational. At some point, he’d have to get up to shower again, and eat, and stretch his legs at the very least, but for now, he was staying put. He just wanted to be there when she regained consciousness. He needed to see the life in her eyes when she opened them again. Until then, he would soldier on.

“You’re tired too,” he countered, noticing the red rims around her eyes. “The spell you cast this afternoon took a lot out of you.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do any physical fighting during the battle and then donate two units of blood. In fact, I didn’t have to donate any thanks to Jas.”

“Yes, she’s been extraordinarily helpful,” he agreed. “That whole team has.”

Willow sighed looking down at her best friend. “It’s so hard seeing her this way.”

Giles looked away and didn’t respond. What more was there to say really? He hated seeing Buffy suffer any sort of injury, illness, or mental anguish. He always had, but the predicament they were in now seemed much worse. He knew what life without Buffy was like, having experienced it first hand. He had never felt so alone or lost than the period between her death and resurrection. 

At least when they’d been estranged, he’d known she was alive and he’d held out hope that perhaps they’d forgive one another for all the hurts and slights they’d dealt the other… and they had. She was vibrant and full of life, even more so now since leaving California and the Hellmouth behind. She thrived in her new role as Co-head of Council and Head Slayer, and while the whole work-life balance wasn’t quite to where either of them would want it yet, he was thankful for the amount of time they did spend together, even if it was mostly for work. Losing her… 

Steeling his resolve, he turned back to Willow and directed gently, “Go get some sleep. I’ll stay here with her.” Willow was about to interject, so he quickly added, “I promise to close my eyes and rest, but I need to be here when she wakes. I need to… tell her…”

“Giles-”

Willow needed reassurance. The worry on her face and how she twisted her hands together reminded him of a time when they were all much younger, spending most of their time researching and finding sanctuary in the school library. He understood her fear. Buffy’s next death would be her last. Willow had sworn just that to Buffy during a stroll on a rocky beach in Northern California a few nights before they left for London. It was something Buffy had needed for closure, to move on and forgive.

A few days earlier while the others had gone for an evening swim in the nearby cove, Buffy had made Giles promise to always talk things out and not to make decisions that affected their relationship unilaterally. If they were to be partners, they needed to respect and trust one another again. As a condition of the agreement, he had asked the same of her. She’d smiled widely at him and he’d returned it with an embarrassed, but genuine smile of his own. It was then that they’d hashed out the plan to move their operations to London and rebuild the Council into a more modern and agile organization with its mission to support the Slayers in the global fight against the forces of darkness.

“I’ll wake you if anything changes, Willow, I promise.”

  
  



	3. Conversations

Chapter 3: Conversations

Giles took a deep breath and rolled his neck before opening his eyes. His body was stiff from falling asleep in the armchair he’d moved to the edge of the bed Buffy was resting in. 

“Sorry if I woke you,” Terry said, standing over Buffy as he took her vitals.

“You didn’t,” Giles responded, shifting in the chair to stretch his back. “How is she?”

“Stable. Strong heartbeat, good breath sounds. I changed the bandage and looked at the wound. Still not healing at a Slayer’s rate, but it looks as it should after surgery for a normal human being.”

“No necrotic tissue? No signs of infection?” he asked as he stood up, his eyes straying to his unconscious Slayer.

Terry shook his head. “I found no necrotic tissue during surgery and her temperature has remained normal this whole time. Of course, I injected her with antibiotics before starting surgery since she’d been lying in a muddy puddle on the battlefield and the kitchen isn’t exactly a sterile operating theatre. We’ll need to continue monitoring her, having no idea what effect the venom will have.”

The update was both reassuring and troubling for many reasons and Giles reached for the mug of tea Willow had brought him many hours earlier. Looking at the cold brew, he thought better of it and placed it back on the table. 

“How long can you stay? I know you have family to get back to,” Giles asked as he stood. 

Having added his findings to Buffy’s chart, Terry looked Giles in the eye and answered, “As long as she needs me to.”

“Thank you, Terry,” he replied, placing his hand on the surgeon’s shoulder as he passed by. “Could you give me five minutes? I need to...”

“Of course.”

While he hated to leave Buffy even for a moment, he knew she was safe in Terry’s expert medical care. As he headed down the hall, he became lost in thought concerning Buffy’s condition. For the moment, she was stable, and, hazarding a theory, he believed that her Slayer healing abilities were busy trying to fight off the firedrake venom, but he couldn’t fend off the inevitable questions of how long could she hold out and was it possible that she would come out on top?

After washing his hands, he rinsed his face with cool water and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked completely wrecked, exhausted, and fearful for the life of his Slayer, his best friend, his… he stopped himself. Now was not the time to allow himself to take a few moments to deal with his emotions, because if he did, he’d just... stop. Buffy needed him. She needed him to find something to counteract the venom that was coursing through her body and threatening her life.

“Get it together, Giles!” he growled, grabbing the hand towel to dry his face, and, gazing once more at his reflection, told himself sternly, “Be. Her. Watcher!”

Standing up straight and took a deep settling breath. There would be time to deal with his own issues later. For now, he needed to get a grip on his feelings and his fear so he could present Buffy with the facts of the situation while presenting a facade of reassurance.

Terry rose from the chair Giles had vacated earlier as the Head Watcher entered the room. “I’ve left a bottle of painkillers on the nightstand. Two every four hours. When she wakes, I suggest giving them to her right away.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours to check on her. If she needs me before then, come get me. I’ll be resting in the room down the hall.” Patting him on the shoulder on his way out he said, “Get some proper rest, too, you look dead on your feet.”

Nodding, Giles closed the door behind his trusted medic and surgeon and once again, took up his vigil beside his Slayer. Taking the hand of her uninjured arm between his, he brought it to his lips and placed a chaste kiss upon her knuckles before resting his forehead against their enjoined hands.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered.

“Giles?” Buffy gasped, turning her head towards him.

“I am here, Buffy,” he responded, surprised by the sound of her voice.

“Thirsty.”

Letting go of her hand, he reached for the sports bottle on the nightstand and helped ease her up as best he could without jarring her shoulder to help her take a sip. When she was finished, he helped settle her back against the pillows.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice a little less guttural than before. “God, I feel like I got run over by the mack truck of dragons.”

Giles wrapped his hand around hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “Terry has prescribed some painkillers, he suggested you take them upon waking to keep ahead of the pain.”

“Already... behind it,” she groaned trying to find a better position, but the strain was too much for her and she gave up.

Taking the medicine from the bottle, he offered the pills to her.

“Don’t want them… mind will be… cloudy,” she said, her eyes finding his. There was fear behind them and his heart ached to reassure her.

“I’ll be here watching over you, I promise.”

“Tell me. I feel...awful.”

“You, ehm… hit your head against a boulder. There is a three-inch gash on your forehead above your left eye. Terry used surgical glue to minimize any scarring-”

Buffy’s eyes widened, “I don’t usually scar.”

“That is true,” Giles agreed. Out of all the injuries she’d incurred over the years, she only carried the scars of the vampires who drank from her and the entry and exit wound scars of the sword that ran her through during the war with the First. “You probably have a mild concussion.”

“Explains the throbbing in my head,” she replied a little more lucidly. “My arm?”

“Ah… that’s a little more complicated,” he said, taking off his glasses and looking down at his lap.

Shifting to give him her attention, she noticed the tension in his jaw and the tiredness in his eyes, “Giles, you’re exhausted… and you look…um… what’s going on?”

“The firedrake you killed, it uh… grabbed your shoulder and ripped it open, fracturing your clavicle. It was a clean break, but you also lost a lot of blood as its talon nicked an artery. Jas and I donated three units of blood. Terry repaired the artery and set your shoulder as best he could without having the proper equipment. Your arm has been immobilized and you need to minimize your activity.”

Buffy studied him. He hadn’t looked at her once during his medical debrief and then it hit her. She’d been exposed to the firedrake’s venom. “How long do I have?” she asked, her throat constricting.

He finally looked up at her, his eyes rimmed red and watery. “It’s… I-I don’t know,” he whispered because if he vocalized any louder, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. 

Leaning her head back against the pillow she took in as deep a breath as the pain in her shoulder would allow before letting it out again. “Can you speculate?”

“There are so many factors-”

She ducked her head and found his eyes. “Giles, please.” 

He dropped his hands into his lap, the tips of his fingers touching as he pulled his lips into a tight line, his eyes apologetic. “Please know that we are researching and looking for a solution.”

“I know,” she said fondly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

Her touch grounded him and gave him strength and he let go of his hesitation. “You aren’t healing at a Slayer’s rate, not physically. I don’t know whether this is because the venom is attacking your Slayer DNA or whether the Slayer antibodies are actively fighting the venom. I am hoping that there wasn’t much venom released into your body. Perhaps with the excessive bleeding from the damaged artery and the heavy downpour that the bulk of it was flushed out before it could take hold in your system. I just…” He looked away for a moment trying very hard to keep his emotions under control. “I just don’t know.” Bringing his gaze back to her, he swallowed hard. “All we can do is continue to research a cure, monitor you for adverse effects, and keep you comfortable.”

“I don’t know how it got me, it impaled itself on my sword.”

“I saw. Perhaps it got a claw or two caught as it fell. Makes sense if it took you with it as it crashed and smashed you against the boulder.”

“Could be,” she agreed, trying to jog her memory, but not finding any correlating information. “Can I have more water?” He gave her a tiny smile and handed her the bottle. She handed it back when she was done and placed her hand in his once more. “You look beat, Giles.”

“I’ve gotten about an hour’s rest or so,” he answered honestly, his voice thin.

“Lie down beside me.”

“I-I don’t think… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll take those pills and head off to la-la land if you promise to get some sleep.”

“I need to get back to my research.”

“I promise not to die on you in the next three to four hours.”

“Don’t joke,” he pleaded, his eyes holding hers.

“I’m not,” she assured him. “Look, you’re too tired to make any sense out of anything printed in that book. Your eyes are bloodshot and you look like you will fall over any minute.”

“I’ll be fine in the chair.” Buffy glared at him and he sighed. “Are we comfortable with this?”

“We’ve known each other for the better part of a decade, I think we can handle it,” she replied. “And I promise to keep my hands to myself… at least one of them.”

Giles started to laugh. It was so ridiculous that she could even joke at a time like this. His laughter was contagious and she joined in for a few seconds before wincing in pain, which brought them back to reality.

Ducking his head in contrition, he said, “I am sorry.”

“Can I have the drugs?”

“Of course.”

“And then you’ll lie down and get some sleep?” she prodded.

He gave her a hesitant look.

“I’ll feel better if you’re here and I won’t be able to rest unless you do.”

“I worry about jostling you about.”

“When you are this tired, you sleep like the dead.” At the curious expression on his face, she continued, “A Slayer notices these things about her Watcher over the years.”

“All right,” he acquiesced, first handing her the pills and then the water bottle. She had a point. Thankfully the bed was big enough for two and, after the day he’d had, he needed to stretch out and sleep. “Fair warning, I could use another shower. I still feel a bit grungy.”

“Don’t care. So am I.”

After turning off the light, he stripped down to his shorts and t-shirt and climbed into bed next to her. He let out a soft sigh as his head hit the pillow and his eyes closed reflexively. 

\----------

Several hours later, Giles woke to a restless Buffy beside him. Turning on his side to face her, he noticed she was in distress and instantly rose to a sitting position.

“Buffy?” he asked as he reached to turn on the light next to him. She was shivering and he worried about her temperature, so he placed his hand to her forehead. She wasn’t feverish, for which he was thankful, but she was a little clammy to the touch and still a touch too pale for his liking. “Buffy, are you all right?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. They were full of pain. “Hurts.”

“Your shoulder?” he asked and she nodded. “Anywhere else?”

“Head. God, how did you manage after hitting your head all those times?” 

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, looking at his watch and mentally kicking himself. “It’s past time for your pills. I slept longer than I thought I would.”

“You needed it,” she winced, trying to sit up a bit more against the pillows.

He helped her find a more comfortable position before getting up to retrieve the pills and her water on the other side of the bed. “Here,” he said, handing her the medication and then the bottle before pulling on his jeans.

“You’re not coming back to bed?” she asked.

“No,” he replied, sitting back down in the chair next to her and picking up his book. “But I will be right here. You need your rest and I really need to continue researching.”

“It’ll take a few for the meds to kick in. Maybe we could talk more?”

After placing the book back down on the table, Giles shifted in his chair to better face Buffy. “Did you… did you have anything, in particular, you wanted to talk about?”

“My hair. Seriously, how is it?” she asked, her tone light and teasing, but her actions belied her levity as she looked down at the quilt and picked at a loose thread. 

Moving the chair a little closer, he gave her his full attention and answered, “Full and beautiful, like an Amazon queen.”

“Liar,” she scoffed good-naturedly. Then steeling herself, she took as deep a breath as she could before broaching the subject. “We should talk about after…” she said, her courage failing her when she saw the confusion on his face.

“After?” he asked.

“In case… I can’t fight this...” She raised her eyes to meet his, trying to keep her voice steady. “A couple of days before we left LA, I met with a lawyer and drew up a will.”

He swallowed hard.

“I should have done it long before, like after mom died, but…” she took a deep breath. “We’d always won. I mean, none of us really expected…” shaking her head gingerly, she continued, “And when I came back, I was just kind of in a fog and couldn’t deal with anything more than what the day brought, much less anything to do with the future. When I was finally ready to join the living after the Willow crisis, you were too injured to travel either by plane or magicks that two Coven members came for Wil and took her to England while we took care of you. Then a month or so after you left Spike came back and the First showed up-” Stopping herself when she realized she was babbling, she shook head to clear her thoughts. “Anyway, not wanting to rehash all the bad, just... stuff got in the way and it didn’t happen. But after Sunnydale, there was time to think and time to make things right and plan for the future, just in case.”

He reached for her right hand and covered it with his, giving it a gentle squeeze in understanding. How many times over the last decade had he rearranged his affairs? It was prudent, but it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.

“I’m not afraid, you know… to die,” she clarified as her gaze wandered down to their entwined hands. “There’s a lot I’ll regret and a lot I want to do which will make me sad if I don’t get to, but I’m not scared.”

He brought her hand up and rested his forehead against it as a tear escaped from his left eye. He wanted to tell her that he was. That he was absolutely terrified of a life without her in it. He’d done it before and it was one of the most painful experiences of his life and he wasn’t sure he could bear it a second time.

“Giles,” she called to get his attention, and when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, she commanded lightly, “Promise me… I know Dawn will be eighteen soon and she won’t need a guardian, but according to my will, you will be hers for a few months if I don’t make it through this. Promise me that she won’t ever be alone, that you’ll always be there for her.”

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be responsible for Dawn or anyone else if he were to lose Buffy. It was hard enough the first time… for all of them. He’d given in to some of his darker thoughts and hadn’t allowed anyone to comfort him, and eventually, he’d left, cutting himself off from the little family she’d created. And perhaps that’s why she’d asked this of him… no, demanded it of him… to keep her family together.

Xander and Willow would always have one another, but Giles and Dawn were different. They were outliers and loners. They would either throw themselves into their work in the best-case scenario or fall into bad habits in the worst.

“Please,” she urged, trying to focus her eyes as they sought his.

“I promise,” he whispered. “But in return, you promise me,” he countered, swallowing twice before the strength in his voice returned. “You promise me that you will fight this. That you will trust me…  _ us _ to find a way. Xander is in London working with the scientists on an antidote and has access to the Underground Archives should we need them and Willow and I are researching everything we can from here.”

Tilting her head, she regarded him for a long moment before giving him a heartfelt, if somewhat lopsided, and unfocused smile. “I love you, you know.”

“Meds kicking in?” he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his voice.

“Mmmhmm,” she replied. As her eyes closed, she whispered, “How’s my hair?"

“Still perfect,” he lied. As her breathing evened out and her body relaxed, he kissed the back of her hand and breathed, “I love you too.”

  
  



	4. A Lead

Chapter 4: A Lead

“Giles,” Willow greeted as she quickly entered the room.

Giles put a forefinger to his lips to indicate the need for quiet and pointed to Buffy who was resting fitfully in the bed. Willow nodded and he rose to speak with her out in the hall.

Closing the door behind him, he said, “It’s been a rough night for her.”

“Did she wake? I thought you said you’d get me if she woke?” Willow asked, distressed, and more than a little hurt.

“She did, but she… she was in a lot of pain and I… was too tired to think straight.” He rubbed the back of his neck as she glared at him. “I am sorry.” When she didn’t reply, he sighed and asked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh.. uh… yeah. Dawn called, she’s on her way, but she wants to make a stop in Cardiff. She has a lead she is following. But if you don’t think… there’s time, she’ll skip it and come here directly.”

“No, no,” he answered quickly. “Terry says Buffy is doing well. He and Alice checked on her not twenty minutes ago. Vitals are good. No fever, thankfully. The wounds are still angry and raw. She doesn’t have any Slayer healing going on at all it would seem.”

“I’ll call Dawn and let her know she has time,” she replied shortly, getting ready to leave.

  
  
“Willow…” She stopped short and turned to look at him, the hurt radiating from her big green eyes. “I… would you sit with her? For an hour or so?”

Willow brightened at that. “Sure, let me get my things. I was going through the bestiary again, it’s rather generic, nothing new in the text, but the marginalia has some interesting information that might be helpful.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” Stepping back into the room, he made his way over to the chair he’d sat in during his vigil and plopped back down in it before taking her hand in his. “Willow is coming to stay with you for a bit,” he told her softly. “It seems I am monopolizing your time,” he explained. “And she needs you.”

When Willow arrived back with her books, Giles squeezed Buffy’s hand, gathered his things, and left the room.

\----------

Buffy moaned in her sleep, her face twisting in agony as she climbed her way through the fog to consciousness. Making a sound of distress, she reached out towards the edge of the bed looking for Giles’ hand and was surprised when a woman’s hand found hers. Opening her eyes she noticed the vivid red hair of her best friend. “Oh, hey, Wil,” she greeted.

“Buffy!” Willow greeted cheerfully. “You're awake!”

Buffy tried unsuccessfully to sit up against the pillows, but gave up and turned her head back towards Willow and winced. “Yeah, can you pass me the water bottle. I’m kind of helpless here.”

“Sure, I can do that. Let me help you up first.”

“It’s okay, I’m propped up enough. Where’s Giles?”

Willow bit her lip. “I made him feel guilty and he let me take a shift. He’ll be back in a little bit. I am sure Alice is going to insist that he take a nap. I wouldn’t be surprised if she swaps the English Breakfast for something more medicinal.” She handed Buffy the water bottle. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know if I have ever physically hurt like this before,” she answered honestly. “It sucks.”

“Do you need more painkillers?” Willow asked, eyeing the pill bottle.

“No, I don’t think I can take anything for an hour or so.”

“I hate seeing you all banged up like this.”

“Yeah, well, it will probably get worse,” Buffy replied miserably.

“So, Giles talked to you about the venom?” It wasn’t really a question, but the inflection was there and Buffy nodded. “Well, I got a stack of reading with me, so if you want to rest, I can get back onto the research.”

“Actually, Wil, I need to go to the bathroom and I think I need some help getting up out of bed and down the hall.”

She got up and opened the door and noticed that the door to the bathroom was free. “Yeah, it’s all clear. How can I help?” she asked as she returned to Buffy’s bedside.

“It’s hard to move without yanking my shoulder about.”

Willow offered Buffy her arm and helped to move her into an upright position.

“ _What_ is going on here?” Alice asked, carrying in a cup of some funky smelling brew.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Buffy explained.

“I can get you a-”

“No!” Buffy interrupted rather forcefully, knowing what the healer was going to suggest. “I just need to get out of this bed and then I can mostly take care of it myself.” Looking to Willow, she added. “Although I am gonna need some help with the undressing and dressing part.”

“I can help with that,” Willow told her.

Resigned, Alice placed the cup with the anti-inflammatory tea she brought up on the side table and helped Willow move Buffy without jostling her about too much. Once standing, Buffy took a tentative step with two redheads hovering beside her in case she needed support.

“I’m… okay,” Buffy said after a few steps. Everything in her body hurt, but she wanted a sense of normalcy. Even if that meant moving slowly and deliberately, at least she was doing it on her own. Both Willow and Alice followed behind like two parents hovering over their firstborn as she took her first independent steps. Upon entering the bathroom, she gingerly turned towards her minders. “Thanks, Alice, we can take it from here.”

“Of course. I’ll change the sheets on the bed. Call me when you are ready to head back.”

“God, this is embarrassing,” Buffy noted after Willow shut the door behind them and started to help her lower her pyjama bottoms.

Willow shrugged. “I seem to recall you helping me after I got clocked in Venezuela last year.”

“True. Guess we’ll be even.”

“I’ll find a way to milk it so you’ll owe me,” Willow stated, turning around to give Buffy a little privacy as if that were the way to keep Buffy alive should the venom start to overtake her capacity to deal with it.

Eying the bathtub, Buffy changed the subject. “How long until I can get soak in the tub and feel clean again?”

“You’ll have to ask Terry, but I know sponge baths are okay. I can get a washcloth and some soap and if we are careful to keep the incision and your stitches dry, we can wash your hair.”

“You _are_ going to make it so I owe you after this,” Buffy replied.

“That’s the plan,” Willow laughed. “You done yet?”

“Yeah. Reverse pants me,” she answered as she flushed the toilet. “And then I am all for getting cleaned up.”

\----------

Giles entered Buffy’s empty room. A tepid cup of some interesting concoction, brewed no doubt by Alice, sat on the table next to the bed. The sheets had been changed, the curtains drawn back, and the window opened, letting in both light and fresh air.

Buffy shuffled into the room dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that covered her immobilized arm. She looked very tired and her mouth was twisted in pain. She was followed by Willow and Alice, the latter acknowledging Giles with a scowl.

“Hey,” Buffy greeted.

“Hey yourself,” he replied.

“Do you think you could help me down the stairs to the lounge?”

“You need to rest,” Alice countered.

“And I can do that down there!” she snapped. “If I need to be propped up at a certain angle, at least I can do it downstairs and help you guys out with research. Trust me, when the drugs kick in, I am _out_ , but we are talking about _my_ _life_ here and I want to fight for it!” She winced with the exertion of raising her voice but held herself up as straight as she could.

Giles glanced over Buffy’s shoulder and gave Alice and Willow a slight nod. Willow understood and helped shuffle Alice out of the room to give her friends some privacy. When they were alone, Buffy gingerly sat down on the bed, steading her body as it shook with pain, with her good arm.

“I don’t want to be treated like an invalid,” she finally said.

Sitting down next to her, he responded softly, “I know.”

“And I don’t want to spend what perhaps could be the rest of my life isolated from everyone and everything in this room.” Her voice was sad and bitter and it broke his heart.

“I could carry you down the stairs,” he offered.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” she muttered, closing her eyes as the pain and exhaustion continued to drain her reserves. “I’ll hold you to it later. Right now, I think I am due for another round of painkillers.”

He helped get her settled back onto the bed, reclined against the pillows, and placed a throw blanket over her legs. There was a slight breeze coming in through the window and he didn’t want her to get a chill, but knowing her as he did, he didn’t dare make a greater fuss by closing the window or fiddling with the curtains.

Handing Buffy a couple of pills, he waited for her to place them in her mouth before handing her the water bottle. When she was finished, he sat back into his chair, watching the shifting expressions on her face as the medicine kicked in.

When the pain was manageable, she let out a sigh and said, “I know Alice means well, but she hovers and she’s…”

“Not one of us?” he finished for her.

Buffy’s eyes met his and she rolled her eyes. “Terry isn’t either but he doesn’t... hover. It’s like she wants to be my mom or something… and she’s not. She’s more like an annoying older sister.”

“Terry is a field medic and a surgeon. His role is to triage first, fix later,” Giles shrugged. “Alice is a field nurse and a healer. Her very nature is that of a nurturer. She invests in getting to know you and what your needs are: to observe, make you comfortable, and to help heal your body and your spirit. I suppose in order to do so, she… hovers,” he explained. “Nevertheless, I can ask her to keep more of a distance.”

“I’ll try to be less… irritated. I’ve just never been good at being sick or injured.”

“Something we have in common.”

Buffy gave him a warm smile. “You’re worse, though.”

“Of that, I am sure,” he agreed with a little levity. “How are you feeling?”

“There’s a little too much pressure on my shoulder,” she admitted, gritting her teeth.

He rose to help move her into a better position and she let out a groan when he raised her up to adjust the pillow behind her.

“I am sorry,” Giles replied. “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can.”

“I know. I’m just… being a big baby.”

“No, anyone would be-

“And that’s the point isn’t it?” she interrupted quietly. “ Anyone… but I’m not just... _anyone_.”

“No, you’re not. If you were, you’d… very likely be…” he took a deep breath. 

“Dead,” she finished for him.

Taking a ragged breath, he found he couldn’t look directly at her anymore.

“And that could still happen,” Buffy added miserably.

He swallowed but before he could say anything, there was a tentative knock at the door as Alice entered. “The tea’s gone cold,” she greeted nervously as she nodded towards the mug on the table next to Buffy and held up the fresh cup to illustrate her point. “Willow said to bring it up. It should help with the inflammation and help you relax.”

“Thanks,” Buffy accepted warmly, allowing Giles a moment as he fiddled with a book on the nightstand. He’d clearly been affected by their talk. 

“Where would you like it?”

Having composed himself, Giles reached for the mug. “I’ll take it,” he offered. 

“Hey, Alice,” Buffy called as the healer turned to leave. “I… uh… I’m sorry… for being difficult and unfriendly.”

She gave her an understanding smile. “You are in pain and processing a lot of information, Buffy. You also aren’t my first difficult patient,” she replied. “But you _are_ my patient. Drink the tea and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Buffy replied with a grin. When they were alone again, she turned to Giles and asked, “Better?”

“Nicely done,” he approved. Taking a whiff of the brew, he raised his eyebrow. “Smells... interesting,”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“Should be all right,” he shrugged. “And it’s cooled enough to drink.”

“Fine,” she said in resignation as he offered the mug. Taking a sip, she made a face and stuck out her tongue in disgust, “Tastes like if licorice and lilacs had a baby and it rolled around in fresh grass clippings.”

“Descriptive,” he noted.

“Do I have to drink all of it?”

“You should.”

She made a face in disgust. “No amount of honey can fix this franken-tea.”

Giles picked up one of the books Willow had been reading and started to page through it. When he looked up several minutes later, he found Buffy asleep and moved quickly to take the mug from her drooping hand before she spilled the last of its contents. 

The action startled her and she found herself awake again and staring into his eyes. The concern she found in them nearly took her breath away.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching out and touching his cheek. “For taking care of me.”

“Always,” he replied, his expression soft.

A slight smile pulled at the corners of her lips as her eyes fluttered closed and her breathing evened out. He took a moment to watch her. The tension in her face had gone thanks to the pain medication and he lightly trailed his finger down her cheek, silently begging the universe to give her a break, to let her live the life she should have been promised at the end of the last apocalypse, to let one of them find the answer to counteracting the venom.

Swallowing hard to keep himself composed, he placed the mug on the dresser and closed the curtains before once again taking up his vigil next to her. He left the books untouched and kept watch as he sorted through his thoughts, trying to recall any minute detail of the firedrakes that any one of their little group might have alluded to over the past several days.

As his own eyes started to droop, his mind kept focussing on two words: slayer and dragon. They were important but why they were important remained elusive… until he finally made the connection. Wide awake, he hopped up from his chair. Conflicted, he stood at odds with himself, not wanting to leave Buffy alone. Digging his mobile from his front jeans pocket, he moved just outside the door where he could keep an eye on her as he brought up Dawn’s number in the directory.

“Giles?” the younger Summers sister greeted, her voice panicked. “Is everything okay? How’s Buffy?”

“She’s hanging in there,” he replied. “Are you on your way?”

“Almost to Cardiff, about 30 minutes out. Why?”

“Dragonslayer-”

“Already on top of it. That’s why I am making the detour to Cardiff” she interrupted with a grin. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I was searching through the Underground Archives for Medieval legends of dragons and ran across a mention from the 13th Century of a warrior that was… definitely more feminine than say your average dragonslayers like St. George or Beowulf or Ragnar Lothbrok. Anyway, this warrior saved Llywelyn the Great and his court in Gwynedd, Wales from a _firedrake_ that had pretty much popped up out of nowhere and had started ravaging his lands before turning on his castle. They say she had been mortally wounded by the “great serpent’s poison,” but made a full recovery. It was lauded as a gift from God since she had saved the prince and his family from certain death. Pretty exciting stuff, huh? So, I cross-referenced that legend with the list of Slayers that lived during that time.”

“Juliana of Chester! Clever Girl!” he praised.

“How do you-? Never mind. Is there anything you don’t know?”

“I am familiar with many of the more notable Slayers in history,” he sighed impatiently, his gaze falling once again to his sleeping Slayer. “What I do not know, however, is how to help your sister.”

“Point taken. So at the end of the entry in the book, there is a footnote that references a bard by the name of Einion ap Gwgon - gotta love these Welsh names - who served Llywelyn the Great at the time of the attack and he apparently wrote a praise poem in tribute to her and goes on and on about her recovery. To make a long story short, I called up Rhodri, because, hello, Welsh… and his library is the best ever. Anyway, we’re in luck. He has the original book and after looking through the poem, he confirms that there is a section that refers to her recovery.”

“Did he go into detail?”

“No, it’s in Middle Welsh and he didn’t have time to go through it. He’s got a team scanning us copies.”

“Well, thank Christ for that,” Giles replied in relief. “Tell him I owe him one.”

Rhodri Bevan was an historian and came from a long line of Watchers. His private library, along with the Underground Archives in London, had been a godsend in the early days of the new Council, when they were trying to pick up the pieces after the bombing of the old headquarter buildings. Rhodri spent much of his time with several young Watchers and history students from Cardiff University scanning and cataloging his library, including a book of poems by the bard Einion ap Gwgon from Llywelyn the Great’s court.

“Will do. Once I have the manuscripts, I’m about three hours out.” 

“Excellent work! Thank you, Dawn. Safe journey.” He rang off and leaned against the door jam, allowing himself some hope. It was a long shot, but even if there wasn’t a clear cure, the poem would contain more information than they had before.

  
  



	5. Interlude

Chapter 5: Interlude

Taking a couple of tentative and unsteady steps from the bed, Buffy reached out and grabbed the dresser with one hand and halted her progress. Giles quickly strode over to her to provide her with support, placing his arm around her waist and gently drawing her towards him.

“Thanks,” she grumbled in frustration, accepting his help and wrapping her good arm around his waist. “I was stronger this morning.”

He worked his jaw in worry. “Let me carry you to the lounge?” he offered.

“Yeah… okay,” she reluctantly agreed. It made her angry, being so weak and if she didn’t have a desperate desire to experience some degree of normalcy, she’d have given up and sat back down on the bed. Besides, Giles had offered to make a late lunch - a cheese toastie with his homemade tomato soup. Somehow he could make a fabulous creamy soup in under forty-five minutes and the Scoobies all loved it. There was no way she was going to pass on that. She was hungry.

“Ready?” he asked, and when she nodded, he gently picked her up, mindful of her injuries, and carefully carried her from her bedroom and down the hall to the stairs.

“When is Dawn due?” she asked.

“An hour and a half or so. She rang just before you woke. Apparently they ran into a flock of sheep — not literally mind you — on one of the local roads outside of Oswestry and they had to wait whilst the shepherd and his dogs moved them off into the proper enclosure a mile or so down the road.”

Buffy giggled at the thought of Dawn cursing the shepherd, his dogs, and several hundred sheep down the country lane. “I bet she was pissed.”

He smiled down at her, taking his time navigating the stairs with Buffy in his arms. Hearing the mirth in her voice instantly made his worried heart feel better. “Nonplussed, I would say, being more of a city girl.”

“Of course you would,” Buffy laughed. “But I know Dawn. She just doesn’t have the patience.”

When they reached the main floor, Giles carried her into the lounge where Willow, the four Slayers who stayed behind to help, and her medical team were waiting to visit with her, and placed her on the chaise with great care.

“All right?” he asked softly, helping her get settled against the pillows in the way he had learned was the most comfortable for her.

“Yes, thanks,” she answered in a whisper as though their conversation were secret. Noticing the care and relief in his expression at her response, she gave him a small smile.

As he cleared his throat, Giles backed away, the shared closeness between them a little too new and a little too public for his comfort and he ran his left hand through his hair, and said, “Well, I think I have promised everyone a late lunch... or at this rate an early dinner.”

“Do you need help, Giles?” Willow asked, hopping up from her chair. 

“I won’t turn it down,” he replied and they both headed towards the kitchen.

The main floor of the cottage had been remodeled into an open plan concept, removing the interior walls to allow conversation flow and continuous lines of sight throughout.

Willow gathered several ingredients from the fridge and set them down on the island to prep. “How are you holding up?” 

He leaned against the island with his back towards the lounge, took off his glasses, and crossed his arms across his chest. “She’s weakening, but putting on a brave face about it, hence insisting on coming down here. She could barely make it from the bed to the dresser. If we don’t find something, I’m afraid-” he stopped himself, his voice heavy with emotion. Taking a moment to regain his composure, he turned back around, his focus falling back onto Buffy. He could hear her recounting her battle with the firedrake that had wounded her for the four Slayers. “Admittedly, I am cautiously optimistic with the news from Dawn. How about you?”

“Worried. Like you. I mean, we just really don’t know how the venom is manifesting.”

“I know,” he agreed. “She knows it too.”

“She’s a fighter. I mean, there’s a chance she can metabolize the venom, right?”

“I’d hoped so, but… she can barely walk now. This morning, she didn’t need your support to get to the bathroom.”

“Let’s see what Dawn has found. Think positive,” Willow told him, but her words could not hide her expression of worry.

\----------

“So, what was it like?” Alessandra asked. “When you used the bond to call him?”

The newly called Slayers would likely never experience a bond with a Watcher. So many of the Watcher lines were snuffed out by the First Evil’s minions and there were now about a thousand Slayers worldwide, so their curiosity was naturally piqued when Buffy mentioned calling on it in a last-ditch effort to be found.

“Honestly, I didn’t know if it worked. I mean when we’d practiced using it before, there was like… I don’t know… a sort of warm feeling and maybe that’s because we’d been working on it together. This time, it was just me… a-and, of course, it was freezing cold! I was soaked to the bone in a downpour and sitting in a muddy quagmire, so I just may not have noticed the bond working.”

“So cool!” Jas replied, sitting on the edge of an ottoman, totally engaged in the story.

“Kinda romantic, actually,” Mei added with a sigh.

“Dude!” Lena, the fourth member of Buffy’s elite squad interjected incredulously. “Seriously?”

Mei, the youngest member of the team blushed a bit. “I mean, it’s just… I didn’t mean anything by it!” she insisted looking at first to Buffy and then to Lena with a sort of panic in her deep brown eyes. Then more quietly, she explained, “They’re sort of like parents to all of us and well… _you’re_ the one who calls them mum and dad!”

“All the more reason  _ not _ to go there,” Lena shuddered. Lena reminded Buffy of Faith when they’d first met. She was bold and brash and would say whatever came to mind. She was also fierce in a fight, someone you’d totally want around to cover your back.

Buffy rested her head against the back of the chaise and closed her eyes. It  _ was _ romantic if she thought about it. She’d called to him and he’d found her within minutes and rescued her, and since then he’d not left her side with the exception of a few hours to allow Willow to have some time with her. 

Opening her eyes, she watched him work in the kitchen with Willow. She’d developed some warm and fuzzy feelings for him over the last year while they worked closely together to restructure the Council into a more modern and nimble organization aimed at being able to support Slayers and Watchers around the globe. The late nights and weekend work brought them closer and she’d found she had much more in common with him outside of work as well. Gone were the days when she’d prefer to meet up with friends and party in a club. Of course, she still enjoyed a night out on occasion, but she found hanging out with Giles and her friends at the local or chilling around the dining room table at each other’s homes was much more her speed. She also preferred to explore the city, visiting its rich museums and cultural sites, something Giles had turned her onto when he’d brought her and the gang back to London with him. On occasion, she’d travel, getting out of the city and exploring further afield, mostly for work purposes, but she usually travelled with Giles, who liked to explore their surroundings after their business had been finalized.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She would definitely have regrets if they couldn’t figure a way to counteract the venom.

“Hey, Buffy, you okay?” Alessandra asked. “You look…”

Buffy quickly wiped the tear away. “Just, uh… hurting a bit,” she covered. It wasn’t a lie, her shoulder was starting to throb again. “I wish the Slayer healing would kick in.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen,” Alice offered. “It’s safe to take between doses of the other.”

“Thanks. I think I could use some,” she replied, grabbing her elbow and stabilizing her arm against her chest.

“After dinner, I’ll take a look at your shoulder, and change the dressing,” Terry added. “I am sorry I can’t give you anything stronger for the pain, but I must say, it is good to see you up and about.”

\----------

“She looks like she is holding court, sitting on the chaise like Cleopatra with the Slayers hanging on every word,” Willow mused, catching Giles watching Buffy instead of grating the cheese for the sandwiches.

Fumbling to pick up the block of cheese, he resumed his task. “She, uh… she does,” he agreed. “She leads by example. They respond to well to that.”

“She’s always been their hero.”

He looked down at the small pile of cheese he'd grated. “Mine too,” he stated quietly.

Willow put her hand on his forearm. “Optimism, remember?”

“Not nearly enough,” he mused as he started grating more cheese. “Not for this lot.”

“And remember Dawn will be here soon,” Willow reminded him.

He looked up at her, his eyes widening. “I’ll get the other block of cheddar from the fridge.”

\----------

“Buffy!” Dawn called as she rushed through the front door, looking around the main floor of the cottage and finding her reclined on a couch, surrounded by a group of Slayers. She quickly ran towards her sister but stopped short before the chaise. Looking at Buffy, beat up, with her arm in a sling, she gave up on her intentions of giving her a hug. Instead, she stood there with tears in her eyes not knowing what to do.

“Sit with me and give me a squeeze,” Buffy said, moving her legs to allow Dawn some room.

She did and leaned into her sister's good side, giving her a gentle hug. “Are you okay? I mean… okay, stupid question.”

The Slayer squad excused themselves to the dining room table while Terry and Alice moved to the kitchen to provide their assistance and talk to Giles and Willow, allowing the sisters their privacy.

“I hurt a lot, and I am not used to be being so weak, but I’m managing.”

“What about… the venom?” Dawn asked.

“Giles and I think my Slayer DNA, makeup, whatever, is busy fighting that, hence not healing like a Slayer,” Buffy answered. “But, that’s gotta be a good thing because I’m still here.”

Pulling back, Dawn announced, “I think I found a lead.”

Her sister smiled, pride showing in her eyes. “Giles told me you did. You’re gonna make an awesome Watcher.”

“You think so?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter. 

Buffy reached out and moved a strand of Dawn’s long hair back behind her ear in sororal affection. “I  _ know _ so.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, it’s going to have to wait until after we eat, because I am  _ starving! _ I literally haven’t eaten anything since breakfast the day of the battle.”

“So… like yesterday.”

“Really? Seems like a week ago.”

Looking into the kitchen, Dawn said. “I should go say hi to Giles and Wil.”

“Stay here and keep me company. You can say hi later,” Buffy insisted. “I love the squad, but I feel like I have to be “on” for them all the time, you know what I mean? And I am just not really up for round two at the moment.” 

Dawn nodded. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Giles is making cheese toasties and tomato soup.” She stressed the word as Giles would say it, with an “ah” sound, causing her sister the giggle.

“God, I’ve been craving that for weeks. This trip just got so much better!”

“Hey!” Buffy exclaimed, slapping her sister on the shoulder.

“I mean, obviously you’re worth it too, but come on, that’s like… that’s  _ home.” _ Dawn sighed happily . 

After she and Buffy had moved into their new apartment, Giles had come over after work and cooked tomato soup and cheese toasties for them as part of their housewarming gift, and it had become a sort of rainy Sunday afternoon tradition when the gang would spend time together. Not everyone could make their Sunday gatherings all the time, but Giles and Buffy never missed one.

“Yeah, it is,” Buffy agreed, her gaze falling on her Watcher. He was working on the sandwiches now, having created an assembly line of sorts from what she could make out. “So who drove you here?” she asked, her focus settling back on her sister.

“A guy named David Ellis. He’s one of the Watchers-in-Training Giles hand-picked from that university program. He is  _ so _ cute and  _ so _ nice! I mean, he’s like four years older than me, so he has  _ no _ interest in me at all and I respect that, but I can’t help but crush on him!” she answered excitedly.

“Is he coming in?”

“Nah, he was going to get a pint at the pub and check in to the same place Allesandra and her team are staying. The West Arms, I think. He said he was going to head back tomorrow unless you or Giles need him for anything.”

“I think we have enough people here, between the squad, the medics, Willow, you, Giles, and me, but he can see what Giles says.”

“He looks tired,” Dawn noted, her attention drawn back to the kitchen and dining area as the Slayers bustled about setting the table while Giles and Willow were plating dinner.

“He’s exhausted. I feel guilty about that since he’s watching over me. He doesn’t really sleep, he catnaps here and there. We both know there isn’t anything in his notes or in the manuscripts we brought along to help. He remembers everything anyway and all this is so fresh in his mind that we all know he isn’t missing anything, but he pushes anyway as if somehow he’s going to magically make the answer appear on the page he’s staring so hard at.”

“Poor Giles.”

“I love him for it, but he needs to lie down and sleep for a good solid four or five hours.”

“It’s not going to happen now that I am here with my lead. He’s going to go into Super Watcher mode with the research.” Dawn said almost apologetically. She was several parts anxious, impatient, and frustrated, wanting to skip dinner entirely and get to work, and a napping Giles wasn’t going to lead the research or find the answers they needed. Her sister, by all accounts, was in grave danger and had been for over twenty-four hours at this point, but she could accept the break for dinner. As tired Giles was and as hungry as Buffy was, they needed to stop and replenish their strength.

“I know,” Buffy answered in resignation. His devotion to her really made her heart do funny things, but she worried about him.

“He’ll rest when you’re safe.”

  
_ ‘ _ Or dead,’ Buffy thought and she knew Dawn thought it too by the grim look on her face.


	6. The Pain of Research

Chapter 6: The Pain of Research

Having enjoyed the robust comfort food Giles had prepared, the group split up. The Slayers had cleared the table and washed the dishes before paying their respects and heading back to the West Arms. The noise level had died down with their departure, for which Giles was thankful. He'd found that in his present state of exhaustion, his tolerance level for teenaged exuberance was practically nonexistent. Buffy had had enough of it during dinner and, after eating a third a bowl of soup and half a sandwich, she'd excused herself, stating that she was tired, and had asked Giles to carry her to the lounge to rest.

While Dawn and Willow made hot chocolate in the kitchen, Terry joined Buffy and Giles in the lounge to check Buffy’s vitals and change her bandage. He was still happy to find her results, if a little elevated, were staying in the normal range, but his demeanor visibly changed when he removed the bandage.

“What’s up, Doc?” she asked in concern.

“The skin around the incision has turned red,” he replied. When he placed his fingers near the incision, she winced in discomfort. “Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s warm to the touch. You don’t have a fever, but I am worried about infection setting in,” he replied, removing his latex gloves.

“Things are getting worse,” she commented quietly.

“Are you having any other symptoms besides the weakness?” Terry asked.

“I don’t think so. Despite all the pain last night, I felt really, really strong. The weakness set in this morning… and I’m getting weaker, I can feel it… and the throbbing is coming back in the shoulder, but I think I am stuck with that unless the Slayer healing kicks in.”

“There could be several reasons for the surge of strength,” Giles said, sitting down in the chair next to her and joining the conversation. “The best theory I have come up with is that after you’d lost a lot of blood on the battlefield and you were given blood from Jas and I. I suspect the Slayer blood gave you a boost.” He looked at Terry. “It’s a thought anyway.”

“It’s a good one,” he agreed before addressing Buffy again, “Could also be that the venom is actively attacking now, whereas before it was just moving through your system.”

“And now my Slayer DNA is losing?”

“Well, that’s a bit of an oversimplification,” Terry replied. “Your Slayer DNA was activated when you were called. It allowed you to become stronger, to heal faster, and it protects you from pain and harm that would knock us normal human beings and render us incapable of getting up. Unfortunately, we just don’t know how the venom is attacking your system. What we do know is that the boosted immune system is trying to fight it off, but the venom itself has rendered the Slayer healing null and void.”

“And the pain tolerance,” she groaned.

Giles looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, it is time for another dose,” Giles counseled.

“Let’s do another round of ibuprofen first,” Buffy replied. “I want to hear what Dawn has to say and I need to be all here for that.”

Giles wanted to disagree with her, but she knew her mind and he knew better than to argue with her.

Terry, however, had no such reservations and warned, “Don’t push yourself, Buffy, you won’t give yourself a chance to fight the venom off.”

She gave him a sad smile and replied, “I’ll rest when I need to, I promise.”

\--------

With a fire roaring in the fireplace and mugs of hot chocolate and tea and a few bowls of snacks littering the flat surfaces, the gang gathered in the lounge to listen to Dawn explain the lead she found.

“So... there was a Slayer who visited this Welsh prince’s court in the thirteenth century who fought and killed a firedrake,” Buffy summarized.

“Yep,” Dawn replied with a smile. “Juliana of Chester and she got injured too. They totally thought she was gonna die, but she didn’t _and_ she made a full recovery!”

Buffy smiled encouragingly at Giles. “Okay,” she said with confidence as she looked back to her sister. “So how? And let’s get it done.”

“Well, that’s the bit that we don’t know, but I did get copies of the tribute poem for her composed by Einion ap Gwgon, who was a poet in Llewelyn the Great’s court. Thankfully it was written down because a lot of these types of poems weren’t until later and details got lost. Anyway, we just need to translate it from the Welsh and we should be good to go.”

“Uh, Dawn, not a Welsh speaker or reader. And languages are so not my thing. I barely got through high school French, remember?” Buffy reminded her.

“Oh, no worries, Buff, we’re good,” she replied, handing out the copies of the poem. “I’ve picked up a little. Giles picks up languages in his sleep if he doesn’t have Welsh already.”

Giles beamed at Dawn’s praise. He found it endearing that he was still a bit of a hero to her. “I do have some,” he confirmed.

“I’ve picked up some Irish and Gaelic from my spells, so I can puzzle some things out since they are all in the same language family,” Willow added with a wide smile. 

“And Rhodri said that if we run into issues, we can call him,” Dawn finished with a smile trying to reassure her sister. “But he is going to be out of pocket for a while. His dad’s health is failing.”

“Yeah… okay,” Buffy replied, a little hurt there seemingly wasn’t anything she could do to help the others out in their research. She actually liked research. Sure, at times it could be dull, but the gang was together, talking through the issues and working to resolve them. Ideas, both good and bad flowed and brought a sense of inclusion and family to their little group, but she was the Slayer and needed to patrol and investigate demonic activity, leaving Giles and the gang behind to hit the books and find out more about the demon du jour.

Now she was stuck lounging on the chaise. She couldn’t go out and patrol, she couldn’t investigate any strange activity — not that she’d find any in this remote area of Wales now that the firedrakes had been sent back to their dimension — and she was unable to help with the translation of the poem to find a cure to the venom that was currently attacking her body. Feeling hurt, helpless, and utterly useless wasn’t something she was okay with.

Giles placed a hand on her forearm. “I’d appreciate it if you could help me take notes,” he said, lifting his left hand and showing off a couple of burn blisters on his fore and middle fingers. “I, uh, had a mishap with the frying pan this evening.”

“I didn’t hear you yell. Are you okay?”

“I’m fairly adept at cursing under my breath. I’ll be fine. It just makes holding a pen inconvenient,” he dismissed, moving his chair closer to her and handing her a pen and a notebook.

She nodded gratefully and the little group started in on translating sections of the poem. The progress was slow due to a lack of proficiency with the language and the fact that they were dealing with Middle Welsh as opposed to Modern Welsh.

Terry and Alice came to check on Buffy a few times, each time trying to convince her it was time to take the heavy-duty painkiller, and each time she rebuffed them, insisting on continuing to assist the others, but it was clear to everyone that she was falling behind on her pain tolerance. Dawn tried to reason with her sister, but Buffy snapped at her and told her to get back to the translation.

As Buffy’s discomfort levels increased, the concerns from the others grew too. No one said anything but Willow, Dawn, and Giles would share uneasy looks. Finally, around eleven o’clock, Giles called it quits. He needed a break, everyone did. Not one of them was making any significant progress. He told Willow and Dawn to get a few hours of sleep and that he would watch over Buffy.

When they were alone, Buffy turned on Giles, “We could’ve done another hour.”

“No, we couldn’t,” he growled, getting up and walking into the kitchen. After grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, he gathered the bottle of pills Terry left on the dining room table before returning to the lounge. Placing the water bottle on the table beside her, he retrieved two pills from the container. “Take them,” he commanded, trying to keep the irritation from his voice and knowing full well that he failed.

“Angry much?” she groused.

“Yes! Yes, I am angry! I am frustrated at the pace the translation is going. The spelling is all over the place and where there is nuance, I can’t find it because I am unable to focus on the task at hand! Willow and Dawn aren’t fairing any better and when you won’t comply with the medical advice you’ve been given — and it is absolutely clear that you are suffering — not one of us can concentrate on the words on the page, much less translate them into Modern Welsh and then again into English! _That_ makes me angry!” he barked, his cadence rushed and his voice raised. He paced a few steps towards the fireplace before turning back, the fight clearly gone from him as his shoulders hunched forward, and his expression shifting to one of concern. “I know I have no right to be angry because I know you want to help, but really, what help are you giving me or any of us if I am unable to pass any information along to you? Yet, there you sit, suffering in agony, refusing to take your medication because _why?_ To write down the few damned words I _am_ able to translate? As if they aren’t indelibly imprinted into my brain and I won’t remember them?”

Silence hung in the air between them, Buffy stared at the water bottle she was now holding. “If we don’t find a cure, I’m going to die,” she stated quietly.

He shook his head. “We can’t be certain, you could still fight off-”

“We both know it, Giles, you don’t have to pretend for me,” she said, finally looking at him. “Pretend for them if you have to, but let’s be real with one another.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the ceiling, mustering his courage to really have this conversation with her. “Be that as it may, you don’t need to put yourself through unnecessary agony,” he said after a few moments. Sitting down on the coffee table, he took off his glasses. “Trust us. Not just Dawn, WIllow, and me, but Terry and Alice,” he begged, placing his hand on her knee. “We’re all working together to save your life. And I promise not to leave you out of the important things.”

Placing the pill in her mouth, Buffy took a deep pull from the water bottle to wash it down. “I’m not worried about being left out,” she told him, handing him back the bottle.

“Then what was this about?”

“It’s about…” Her brows furrowed together as she gathered her thoughts. “Being together… with my sister, my best friend, and my…” There wasn’t really a word for what Giles was to her even without the opioids starting to course through her body. Their relationship sort of defied definition. “Well… _you,”_ she replied, finally deciding on something.

He sat there staring at her, not really knowing how to respond, so she clarified her response. “I don’t want to miss the small things: the way the corners of Willow’s mouth turn down when she’s working through a puzzle or how Dawn starts to fidget and spin her pen between her fingers because it helps her focus… or…” A stray tear escaped her lashes before she continued, “Or the way you subtly check on me by looking over your books or papers, or how you include me in the activity even when there isn’t much I can do.” She sighed and finally met his eyes. “The way you make me feel like… I’m the only thing that matters.”

“You are,” he whispered in confession as he quickly looked down at his hands, afraid that she would see into his soul and see the depth of his devotion and further.

Trying to hold back tears, she asked, “Can we… can we go upstairs?”

Placing his glasses back on his face, he rose from his seat on the coffee table and carefully picked her up to carry her back up to her bedroom.

After Giles placed her in the bed and helped get her settled, she asked, her voice weak and hesitant, “Would you… I don’t... want to be alone.”

There was no stuttering or stammering, no half-hearted excuses on Giles’ part. He simply nodded, pulled off his glasses and his sweater, and shucked his jeans. After turning off the light, he situated himself next to her on the bed, facing her. He could feel the tension in her body, and he cautiously inched closer to her, careful not to disturb the mattress further for fear of jarring her injured shoulder and causing her more distress. 

“I’m here,” he breathed, lightly placing his free arm over her abdomen.

She placed her hand over his arm and hugged him to her before letting out a sob. “I’m sorry,” she cried, turning her head towards his.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he replied, bringing his hand up to stroke her cheek. His own tears pricked at his eyes and the breath he took in was a ragged one. “I promise you-”

“No promises, Giles,” she sniffed, taking his hand in hers and bringing it back down to her side. “In a few hours, we'll get back to work. Right now...” 

“Sleep,” he finished for her.

“I…” She shook her head. “Yeah.”

“How are your pain levels?”

Lacing their fingers together, she moved his arm so that he was holding her once again. “Much better.”

“Good,” he replied. “Get some rest, Buffy.”

He closed his eyes and settled into the pillow. Sleep probably wouldn’t come, but just lying in the dark, listening to her breathe helped calm his frayed nerves. These moments with her were precious, and he suddenly understood better her need to forgo the pain medication to experience as much time as she could with Dawn and Willow and… well, him.

He owed her an apology for his outburst.

Staring at the ceiling, Buffy debated disturbing him again. Her mind was spinning with a million things left unsaid. She could practically hear Giles’ brain working overtime, so she knew he wasn’t anywhere near sleep, but she also knew that she wasn’t quite sober and that maybe the more serious conversations should wait. 

Ultimately high Buffy was much more impatient and demanding than no fun, sober Buffy and, ignoring all voice of reason, she asked, “Giles?”

“Yes?”

“This is… this is me having the worst timing.”

He opened his eyes, let go of her hand, and started to get up.

Grabbing his arm, she questioned, “Uh… where are you going?”

“I thought you needed help… going to the-”  
  


“No!” she exclaimed with a nervous laugh. “No, I am good. Wow, what a way to kill the buzz.”

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood… what’s-”

“Nothing. I’m sorry… the drugs…” she said lamely.

Giles settled back onto the pillows, keeping himself at the same elevated level she was and reached out to take her hand in his. “I’m here,” he told her. “We can keep talking about anything you like or I can shut up now and we try to get some sleep.”

The silence between them stretched on and he figured she was opting for sleep when she asked, “Remember how I said I’d have regrets?”

He turned on his side again to face her. “Yes.”

Letting go of his hand, Buffy raised hers to stroke his cheek. “I wish I’d had the courage to tell you sooner.” She felt his reaction - his body tensing in anticipation of what she might say. “You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to know... I’m… in love with you.”

He turned his head to look at the ceiling and let out the breath he’d been holding before casting his gaze back on her. “Your timing is _absolutely_ appalling,” he agreed with a little chuckle, reaching out to caress her cheek.

“I know.” She started to laugh, but quickly stopped herself when it adversely affected her shoulder. “Oww!” she complained.

“I am sorry. I shouldn’t make you laugh,” he apologized.

“Yes, you should,” she replied. “Please don’t be sorry.”

Tenderly moving a strand of hair from her face, Giles gently leaned in and placed his forehead against hers. “I’ll have the same regret. I have loved you for years, but things… changed when we moved you here and we started working together again. One day you walked into my office and I suddenly found myself _in_ _love_ with you.”

“I knew when you promised we’d do all this together back in California.”

“I should’ve seen it then. I think I was still so…”

“There was so much to process. Sunnydale…” she yawned.

“Yes,” he agreed, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You’re tired, Buffy, get some rest.”

She searched his eyes in the dim light that emanated from the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. It was hard for her to focus with the full effects of the painkiller having finally kicked in. “I kinda thought we’d have all the time in the world after defeating the First.”

“We should know better by now,” he replied regretfully.

“We should. I told Willow once, Carpe Diem…” she sighed, lifting her hand and trailing her finger down his jawline. “If we kick this dragon’s ass... we’ll… talk, yes? About _us?_ ”

“May I promise this time?”

“You’d better.”

“I promise,” he swore.

Her eyes drooped closed and her hand slipped down to rest on his chest. Lacing their fingers together, he placed a devotional kiss to her knuckles before resting her hand against his chest.

He was exhausted, but sleep was elusive. His mind was awhirl with the news that she was in love with him and he desperately wished that he could just get up and head downstairs to resume his research, to find the cure that had saved Juliana of Chester.

Instead, he lightly pressed his forehead to hers and promised her, “We'll slay this dragon, my love.”

  
  


  
  



	7. A Turn for the Worse

Chapter 7: A Turn for the Worse

It was still dark as pitch when Giles leaned over to kiss Buffy’s cheek before reluctantly rising from the bed. While getting dressed, he heard a knock at the door and quickly finished buttoning up the fly of his jeans before calling in a stage whisper, “Come in.”

Alice crossed the threshold into the room followed by Willow, bathing the room in the bright light from the hallway and he winced as his eyes adjusted from the darkness.

“How is she this morning?” the healer asked, fiddling with a vase on the dresser to resist the urge to barge past him and begin the assessment of her patient.

“I woke her when the alarm went off, but she wants to sleep a little while longer. I’m not sure whether to take that as a good sign or not,” he answered, his mouth set in a grim line as he rubbed the back of his neck and nodded towards Buffy.

“I’m not surprised. She really pushed herself last night,” Alice tutted disapprovingly, making her way over to Buffy’s side of the bed at his implied invitation. “She needs rest. I’ll check her vitals and sit with her for a while. Terry will be in shortly to check her shoulder. He wasn’t too pleased with how the wound looked last night,” she reminded them.

Giles took in a deep breath, the stark reminders of her condition running through him like ice melt off a glacier. In the sleepy haze and the darkness of the pre-dawn morning, it had been easy to bask in the warmth of her declaration of love from just a few hours before.

Addressing Willow with some urgency, he stated, “We have work to do.”

“Yeah, we do,” she agreed. “Dawn’s already downstairs brewing coffee.”

He lingered at the door, his gaze resting on Buffy as Alice listened to her heartbeat and took her pulse.

“I’ll… uh… meet you down there,” Willow said as she turned to leave, though she doubted he noticed.

When Alice was done, she looked up at Giles and blew her unkempt auburn hair from her face. “She’s stable for now. The only way you can help her is to find the cure, not standing in the doorway watching her sleep,” she chided gently. “Go. I’ll have Terry provide you with a full report after our assessments and when she’s ready to join you all in the lounge, I’ll come get you.”

A quick blush stained his cheeks and he turned to leave. “Yes, you’re quite right. Thank you, Alice.”

\----------

After the sun had risen and two cups of coffee later, Giles looked at his watch. Neither Terry nor Alice had come down the stairs yet with a report on Buffy. Admittedly, he’d lost himself in the translation of the poem and he was just about to excuse himself to go check on her when Dawn made a small noise of interest.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Okay, so I found some interesting narrative,” she announced, looking from her notes to the bound copy of the text.

“Oh?” Willow asked, raising her head from her work.

“Yeah, so Juliana of Chester arrived at court with a guy and another woman. What’s notable is that Juliana and the other lady were _both_ in armor. The guy was too, but, whatever, that’s expected.” She looked at Giles. “Could there have been two Slayers alive at the same time?”

He shrugged. “Not likely. We would have learned about that at the Academy. None of us thought that possible. ‘One girl in all the world’ and all that. The first instance was Kendra, after Buffy…” He removed his glasses and inspected the lenses for filth. “drowned.”

“Maybe a potential then? Sort of like a squire?”

“Perhaps. Does Einion provide a name?”

“Not in this passage,” Dawn replied. “Doesn’t mention who the Watcher-dude is either.”

They all returned to their sections of the poem and grew quiet again.

“Giles?” Willow called a few minutes later.

“Yes?”

“This firedrake… I think it’s the same kind as the ones we encountered. Look here,” she pointed excitedly to the couplet she’d been reading.

“Well, I’ll be… You’re right. Identical,” he agreed. “Well, that bodes well!”

“Dawn,” Terry interrupted, the look on his face grave.

Giles immediately stood up, the blood in his veins seemingly growing cold at the seriousness of the medic’s demeanor.

“Buffy?” Dawn, too, stood up, her panic rising when she noticed Terry’s posture. Doctors don’t bow their heads when they have good news to deliver. “How is she?”

Willow rose from her seat to wrap her arm around Dawn’s shoulder.

“She has a fever and she’s not waking up,” he explained. “The skin around the incision is hot to the touch and I am certain infection has set in now. I am going to suggest a course of intravenous antibiotics. It’s the best we can do right now.”

“Do it!” Dawn exclaimed.

“I need to go into Wrexham to get the antibiotic she needs,” Terry explained as Giles just stared at him.

“Then go!” Dawn shouted, causing Giles to jump out of his shock.

“Yes, go, Terry. Do you… do you need someone to go with you?” he asked.

“No, no,” Terry replied. “I’ll also make sure to replenish our kit whilst there. Alice also provided me with a list of things she needs. She wants to try a poultice on the surgical wound. See if we can draw out some of the infection.”

“We can weave a healing spell around that. Maybe help speed it up,” Willow suggested.

“Alice won’t leave Buffy’s side, but she’d appreciate a cup of tea if one of you would be so kind,” Terry told them as he moved across the room to retrieve his keys from the dish by the door. “I should be back in a couple of hours. I have my mobile should you need me or need to add something to the list.”

As soon as Terry closed the door behind him, Dawn ran up the stairs to go check on Buffy. Giles desperately wanted to follow, but removed his glasses and threw them down on the coffee table before sitting down heavily in the chair he’d been occupying instead. Leaning forward, he held his face in his hands, knowing that the situation had just turned dire.

At that moment, he felt utterly defeated. He wanted to weep, but the tears wouldn’t come and the sob that threatened to escape his throat remained firmly lodged there. He just couldn’t quite believe that things had taken such a turn for the worse so quickly, though the realist in him had expected it. 

He’d just opened himself up to hope — hope that she would be able to metabolize the venom, fight off any infection, and make a full recovery. Hope that maybe fate would just give her a break… and perhaps him as well.

“Giles?” Willow called softly.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen. After turning on the kettle he searched through the cabinets to find the tea, finally finding the tin with the single-use bags in the last cabinet he looked in. When the kettle clicked off and he stared at it.

Willow pulled two mugs out of the dish rack and set them down before him. The sound of the mugs knocking against the counter jolted him from his haze and he tossed a tea bag into each of them. 

“You should check on Dawn,” he said, pouring water into the mugs.

“We could both go… check on Buffy too,” she suggested quietly.

Shaking his head, Giles placed the kettle back down and responded, “No, I need to focus on translating the text. I need to find the passages that mention Juliana making a recovery, to see if they mention a cure.”

“It’ll just take a few minutes,” she countered.

He handed her the mug for Alice. “I’ll go… later.”

“Giles?” she asked, the inflection in her voice rising at her confusion.

He gave her a steady look before nodding his head in the direction of the stairs. Willow stared at him for a moment before turning to leave. When he was finally alone, Giles hung his head and took a deep breath, trying to center himself. After doctoring his tea, he went back to the lounge, to return to his work. He found the section he’d been working on before Terry’s news had broken up their research session and tried to focus on the text, but his emotions got the better of him and he picked up his fountain pen and flung it across the room in frustration and anger.

The explosive outburst didn’t make him feel any better, but the sheer physical violence of the act and the crack of the pen on against the tile-covered island did provide him with some sort of focus. He figured the ink cartridge within had probably ruptured upon impact, but the matte silver metal pen would still be intact if a bit battered and hard to clean. Sitting back in his chair, he took a deep breath and focused on reading and translating Einion ap Gwgon’s tribute poem to the Dragonslayer of Gwynedd. 

\----------

_Buffy stood ready, her sword angled to slip between the dragon scales and pierce the flesh beneath. Too many firedrakes had been killed already on this mission and she really didn’t want to kill this one, but it was on the attack, headed right towards her. Its wings had been damaged by her crossbow bolts and it was unable to control its descent or its speed, but it seemed intent on taking her out with it._

_There was no place for her to run. There was a boulder behind her, to her left a dry stone wall, and off to her right, some distance away, Willow and her fellow witches were attempting to open the portal. She couldn’t risk the dragon turning and following her in that direction. Its momentum would have it crash into them and the mission would be lost._

_Bracing herself, she locked eyes with the great beast, ruby red, and angry, and desperate. It let out a piercing scream as it attacked, but Buffy managed to impale the firedrake. Instinctively, it grabbed her shoulder in its talons, dragging her several meters before smashing her against the boulder before she fell to the ground._

_Opening her eyes, Buffy found herself surrounded by darkness and as she sat up, she wrapped her arms around herself. She soon adjusted to the lack of light and could see she was in a large, enclosed cavern. The dripping of water from the stalactites echoed loudly throughout the chamber. She was confused. Last she remembered she was lying in a bed, her shoulder throbbing and her body starting to ache, especially in her joints._

_The pain was gone for now, but she knew she wasn’t dead because where she was now wasn’t exactly where she had been before after another portal had opened up and another dragon had ripped through dimensions. That place had been warm and full of love and light. This place was cold and empty and the darkness was draining. Even her thoughts seemed to echo around the cavern._

_All that she knew for a fact was that she wasn’t supposed to be there… wherever the cavern happened to be, but there was somewhere else she was needed, there had been someone she’d been talking to. Someone important. Someone she cared about and who needed her, and she needed to return to… him? Yes... definitely him. But there were others she held dear who were waiting for her as well. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs in her mind, but to no avail._

_Looking around, she spotted a sconce on the rock wall and made her way over to it. It lit on its own accord upon her approach._

_“Huh, okay, then,” she muttered aloud and removed it from its metal holder, deciding to explore her surroundings now that she had some light. After some time, she found that the cavern was quite large and didn’t seem to have any entrance or exit points that she could see._

_Huffing in frustration, she sat down against the wall and grumbled, “Well this is inconvenient! What the hell am I supposed to do now?”_

_“Hello, Slayer.” A voice hissed in greeting._

_Her memories came flooding back, brushing away the initial haze. Standing up, Buffy extended the torch out before and turned around looking in all directions. From the far corner, something ruby red glowed in the firelight._

_\----------_

He wasn’t a fan of ballpoint pens, but considering his fountain pen had landed somewhere over in the kitchen and he wasn’t inclined to go fetch it, Giles picked up the available pen on the coffee table and started to jot down some notes. His knowledge of Welsh wasn’t stellar, and he struggled even further with Middle Welsh, but the clock was ticking and he resolved to focus on the poem before him. 

More than two hours had come and gone when he heard the front door shut and he looked up from his work, his neck and shoulders hurting from hunching over the coffee table. “Back already?” he asked Terry as he looked at his watch, grimacing at the minuscule amount of progress he’d made during that time.

Terry walked over to the lounge and answered, “I was able to get everything we need. How is Buffy?”

“I… I don’t know,” Giles admitted sheepishly. “Willow and Dawn are with her.”

“Alice hasn’t been down to report?” he asked sitting down on one of the armchairs.

“No.”

“She wouldn’t leave Buffy alone, but with Willow and Dawn sitting with Buffy, I would have thought she might try to break away.” Terry looked up the stairs before he noticed the dejected look on Giles’ face. “How are you doing?”

Placing the pen down on the notebook, Giles, rubbed his face. “As well as I can under the circumstances,” he replied.

“After I get Buffy hooked up to the intravenous antibiotics, you should go to her.”

“I have to research.”

Terry tilted his head in response. “Weren’t you researching before, when you insisted on staying with her in her room?”

Giles looked down at his hands. “Half-heartedly. I knew there wasn’t anything in the materials we brought. We’d been through them so many times. We knew the firedrake talons were venomous, but we never found an antidote or anything to counteract the effects, so we briefed everyone to protect themselves and steer clear of the legs.” He shrugged and sat forward, seemingly making himself smaller. “I looked through the materials, but I knew we wouldn’t find anything. I just used it as an excuse…”

“To be with her,” Terry finished for him.

Giles didn’t answer. He just kept his focus on his hands. 

“Well,” Terry started as he stood up. “I need to see to Buffy and get the antibiotics started. I am sure Alice could use a break. Why don’t you sit with Buffy for a while after I finish up?”

“I need to continue-”

“Take it upstairs.”

“I can’t… I can’t see her like that.”

“You saw her worse, mate!” Terry told him, his voice raised. “Bleeding out on the damned table over there and yet she pulled through. With a little luck from science and perhaps some magicks, she’ll pull through again.”

“I can’t focus!” Giles yelled back, staring his medic in the eye. “I can’t sit there next to _… her..._ and try to translate this _damned_ poem... I couldn’t do it last night…” He picked up the manuscript again. “I need to get this done," he dismissed. "Call me if anything changes.”

“Sure…” Terry replied, gathering the supplies he brought in with him and heading towards the stairs.

Sitting back in his chair, Giles looked to the ceiling. “Keep fighting, love,” he whispered. "I need more time."

\----------

_“Who’s there?” Buffy called._

_The ruby-red glow inched closer and closer until she could make out the outline of a firedrake and she took a step back._

_“We had a little run-in the other day. Didn’t see eye to eye over a few things,” it replied neutrally as it stopped it’s progress and set it’s great bulk down, curling its tail around itself._

_“You… uh… weren’t supposed to be there.”_

_“True, but we were.”_

_“I thought I killed you.”_

_“You did,” the drake stated. It looked to Buffy as though it was completely disinterested in her and their surroundings._

_“So… if you are dead and I’m not, how is it that we are here together?”_

_“The battle isn’t over,” it huffed with an air of condescension as it stretched its long neck and laid its head on the ground to watch her._

\----------

The pages in his notebook were starting to fill out with copious notes as Giles made more progress with translating the poem. He’d progressed to the section where Juliana of Chester went into battle against the firedrake. Both Julian and her female companion Adela rushed to meet the great dragon a few miles outside Llywelyn the Great’s castle at Dolwyddelan. They fought valiantly against the great beast until Juliana finally was able to bring it down with a Welsh longbow. Unfortunately, it hadn’t died upon impact as it fell from the sky. 

Juliana made her way over to the firedrake with her sword to finish it off, but it lashed out with its front legs and slashed through her leather coat of plates to her ribs. The cut surprised her but it didn’t stop her and, in one fluid motion, she separated the firedrake’s head from its body before collapsing to the ground beside it.

“Hey, Giles,” Dawn interrupted as she picked up her copy of the manuscript and sat down in the chair next to him.

His eyes were wide with both the thrill of discovery and concern for _his_ Slayer as he looked up. “How’s Buffy?” he asked tentatively, noting Dawn’s look of disquiet.   
  


Dawn took a deep breath “She’s… unconscious, some spontaneous movement, but…” she shook her head. “Can I ask you something?”

Setting his copy of the manuscript down on the coffee table, he replied, “Of course.”

“I… I know we’re here now and on your turf, but I kind of need to know.”

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Know what?”

“That… if the worst happens, you’ll still be… here… for me,” she looked up at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears which she desperately wiped away with the back of her right hand.

“I… of course, I’ll be here for you,” he answered, leaning forward. “Where else would I be?”

“You… left before… twice” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact, but he could both see the hurt in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

“I did and I am sorry for it,” he said. “I don’t want to make excuses, Dawn. They weren't the right decisions. Hindsight and all that, but nonetheless I made them.”

Dawn nodded. His apology was enough. “I just… I’m scared,” she confessed, looking up at him.

“As am I,” he admitted. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I don’t know if Buffy told you, but she had a will drawn up before we all left LA. I know you are almost eighteen, but should Buffy not survive this, I’ll be your legal guardian.”

Sniffing, she wiped her tears with the cuff of her sleeve. “No, she didn’t tell me.”

“So, it looks like we are stuck together.”

“At least for a little while,” she responded, wrapping her arms around herself and looking down and away.

“For a long while, Dawn,” he reassured her softly, placing a hand on her shoulder and ducking his head to catch her eyes. “Your sister knows what is best… for both of us. Should the worst transpire, I’ll be here for you as I hope you’ll be here for me as well, because…” He swallowed hard. “I will need your strength too.”

“What if I am not strong enough?” she asked, giving voice to the doubt she felt.

“I _know_ you are. How could you not be after all you’ve been through? You are a Summers woman. The very definition of strong,” he reassured her.

Dawn threw herself into his arms and finally let herself cry. Giles held her until she finally pulled away. “I uh… guess we should get back to work.”

He gave her a small sympathetic smile before telling her, “I found the battle between Juliana of Chester and the firedrake.”

“You did? Where?”

He picked up his copy of the manuscript and read the relevant passages that he’d translated into English.

Dawn gave him a genuine smile. “We’re close,” she said.

“We are.”

“God, there better be something in here!”

“It’s a first-hand account, not something that was performed and then handed down over time from generation to generation and then written down, copied, and copied again. I think we’ll find something.”

“I’m going to wash my face and make some tea,” Dawn stated, feeling a little more positive. Eying his empty mug, she asked, “I take it you’ll want a fresh cup?”

Giving her a reassuring smile, he asked, “When have I ever turned one down?”

  
  



	8. Blood Oath

Chapter 8: Blood Oath

_“The battle isn’t over,” Buffy repeated with scorn. “I killed you. So what now? It’s_ _your_ _turn to watch_ _me_ _die?”_

_“Maybe so,” the firedrake replied with a shrug. “It’s taking you a long time. Usually beasts in your realm don’t last long against the venom.”_

_“Yeah, well, I’m a lot tougher than I look,” she retorted._

_“Such a little thing too,” it remarked, lifting its head in curiosity at its companion._

_“Look, if you want to go toe to toe, I am feeling a lot better than I have since you got lucky on the battlefield.”_

_“You can’t kill me twice,” it scoffed._

_Buffy growled and paced the length of the cavern perpendicular to the firedrake._

_“Ugh! Why am I here?” she yelled in frustration._

_“I told you-”_

_“Shut up! I didn’t ask you!” she yelled, turning towards the winged beast. “I am not  dead! There are people that I care about out there who are worried about me. I need to return to them!” _

_The dragon laid its great head back down on the cave floor._

_Buffy sat back down, her back against the cavern wall. It was uneven and uncomfortable, but she didn’t move. “Is there a way out?” she finally asked._

_“There’s always a way out,” it answered._

_“Way to be informative, Mr. Cryptic… or Ms.” she grumbled._

_\----------_

“I... I’ve got it!” Dawn exclaimed, standing up, her notebook with her translations in hand. “Adela… she performed a blood oath!”

Giles stood and walked over to join her. “Show me,” he said, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

Several hours had passed since Terry’s return. Willow had come down about an hour before with an update on Buffy and rejoined the research effort. There had been no positive change in Buffy’s condition: she remained unconscious but was now restless and fighting a raging fever. Terry had administered the intravenous antibiotics and now they waited, hoping to buy some time against the infection.

They were in a race with the venom and every one of them felt the strain. 

“Here,” Dawn pointed excitedly. Reading the modern Welsh translation, she said, “Cymerodd Adela, mewn gweithred o anobaith, gyllell i'w llaw ac fe wnaeth Juliana, wrth eu gyda'i gilydd, dyngu llw gwaed defosiwn i arwr Gwynedd.”

Swallowing, Giles translated, “Adela, in an act of desperation, took a knife to her hand and that of Juliana, clasping them together, swore a blood oath of devotion to the hero of Gwynedd.”

“Yn olaf, cliriodd y dwymyn ac iachaodd ei chlwyfau ac agorodd Juliana, unwaith eto, ei llygaid. Mae gorchudd marwolaeth wedi mynd, yn dyst o drugaredd Duw,” Dawn continued.

He looked wide-eyed at Dawn and whispered, “Finally, the fever cleared and her wounds healed and Juliana, once more, opened her eyes. The veil of death gone, a testament of God's mercy.”

They shared a quiet moment of understanding between them before Dawn said, “She got better after she received blood from Jas. That’s what Willow said.”

“She did.”

“But it didn’t last,” she said.

Raising his eyes towards her bedroom on the upper floor, he shook his head. “No, because it wasn’t accompanied by an oath of devotion.”

“We need to tell the others!” she said excitedly as she headed for the stairs.

“Dawn,” he called to her. “Well done!”

She stopped her progress and gave him a smile. “Thanks, but it’s a team effort.”

“Don’t discount your contribution. You found Juliana of Chester, located the original text of the poem, brought it to us, and... your Welsh is far superior to mine or Willow’s,” he stated. “Because of you, Buffy has a chance.”

Dawn ran and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I just… she saved _my_ life, you know.”

“I know,” he replied gently, resting his cheek on her head.

Pulling away from him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. “We need to tell Willow, Alice, and Terry.”

He laughed and allowed her to guide him to the stairs. For the first time in hours, the reluctance he felt at leaving his station of research, had abated. They were now armed with information and ready to form a plan. 

\----------

_After searching her side of the cavern again for an opening to tunnel or something and not finding it, Buffy asked, her patience running thin, “Are you guarding the way out?”_

_“You could always come over and check,” the firedrake shrugged._

_“Why can’t you just say yes or no?” she huffed._

_“Do you think I have all the answers?”_

_“I don’t know what to think when it comes to you,” she grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. “I don’t even know why either of us is here!”_

_“Don’t you?”_

_“I… do,” she admitted. Tears forming in her eyes, she looked away and stated quietly, “I’m dying.”_

_“Yes,” the dragon replied, its voice holding a note of empathy._

_\----------_

Buffy’s family and friends gathered in her room to discuss Dawn’s findings in the tribute poem to Juliana of Chester. While excitement buzzed at the cure, it was clear that Buffy was in distress. She was pale, agitated, and sweaty. Along with the antibiotics, Terry had her hooked up to a morphine drip for the pain and a saline solution to keep her hydrated.

“So, what are we waiting for?” Dawn asked, looking down at her sister. “I’ll call Jas and ask her to swear an oath of fealty to Buffy. She’ll do it. Any of the Slayers would.”

“While Buffy already has Jas’ blood in her system, I think it would be good for her to donate perhaps half a unit whilst performing the oath,” Terry suggested. Looking at Alice, he asked, “What do you think?”

“I do think it would be more powerful that way, yes,” his counterpart answered.

“Agreed,” Willow nodded. Turning to Dawn she asked, “Did Einion write down the oath Adela swore in the poem?”

Shaking her head, she replied, “No. Just that she did.”

“We can tailor an oath of fealty from any number of medieval oaths, I should think,” Giles said, removing the tip of his glasses from his mouth.

“You’ve got examples of these?” Dawn asked.

“I can think of a few,” he answered with a tilt of his head. “There’s a formula to them. The Watcher’s Oath I took follows the same formula. The only difference for the one that Jas will take is that there will be no formal acceptance of the oath, but clearly there doesn’t need to be one in this case.”

“The acceptance was Juliana getting better,” Willow stated. “If she hadn’t accepted it, she would have died.”

Dawn pushed herself off of the dresser she had been sitting on, she was antsy. Her sister wasn’t getting better with them just sitting around talking. Catching Giles’ eye, she said, “Okay, so I am going to call Jas. Giles, can you write out an oath of fealty for her?”

He nodded.

“If we’re going to do the blood transfusion, we’ll need to move her back downstairs. There just isn’t the room up here to do that and have those of us that need to be present here,” Terry said.

“I’ll carry her if you’ll follow with all the medicines.”

\---------

_“Okay, I get that I am dying, but why here? Why am I stuck here with you when my friends and my sister and my… Watcher are out there?” she asked, desperation lacing her voice. “They need me. They need to know that I love them. I need him to know that… it will be okay. I want to… need to say…” she stopped and looked away. “Goodbye.” _

_“Then fight for it,” the firedrake huffed. Its moment of sympathy seemed to have passed._

_“Huh?”_

_“For a Slayer, you sure do talk a lot.”_

_“And you firedrakes sure are cryptic,” she retorted. “Why were you in North Wales anyway? You know, we only wanted to get you back to your dimension.”_

_“And yet, you killed me and several of my weyr.”_

_“I’ll take a moment to remind you’re territorial and aggressive.”_

_“Yes,” it agreed. “We did like the area. The verdant valley floor, lots of camouflage in the trees on the surrounding mountains. A cave system for a lair, and plenty of food.” It tilted its head in retrospection. “Some things are worth fighting for.”_

_\---------_

Giles and Terry set Buffy up on the chaise again. Willow and Alice rigged a privacy screen to wall off the lounge from the rest of the main floor while Dawn called Jas to explain the situation and what was needed of her, should she be willing.

An hour later, the Slayer squad sat around the dining room table playing cards and holding vigil while Terry readied Jas for the transfusion and Giles went over the oath of fealty with her.

“We only need half a unit this time, Jas,” Terry told her. “Just enough to give her that Slayer boost and to activate the blood oath. This should neutralize the effects of the venom and her healing should kick in.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Jas replied.

Giles handed her a piece of paper. “The ehm… the oath of fealty is a blood oath, which, should you break it will have far-reaching consequences, Jas, so if… if you have any reservations at all swearing fealty to Buffy, I would suggest you rethink your decision.” 

A part of him feared Jas would say no, but he had to ensure that she knew the oath was real, that her intentions were sincere. Her service would be sworn to Buffy for as long as one of them lived. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she refused to perform the oath, but it also had to be her choice.

Jas shook her head. “There is only one choice here, Mr Giles. She chose me for her elite squad. She saw something in me. She asked me to fight beside her and I accepted. This fight isn’t over until she’s back on her feet.”

Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder and swallowed hard. “I see exactly what she saw when she picked you,” he said, his heart in his throat. “The true heart of a Slayer. Thank you.”

“She’s lucky to have you as her Watcher,” Jas said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Let’s stop talking and do this thing, okay?”

Alice, Dawn, and Willow joined Jas, Terry, and Giles behind the partition. Terry looked to Giles, silently asking to start and he nodded his assent in return.

“You’re up, Jas,” Giles said a few moments after the blood started flowing into Buffy.

Jas quickly reread the oath so that she wouldn’t stumble over it before kneeling in front of Buffy and clasping their hands together on the pommel of a sword. “Hear you, Buffy Summers, that I, Jasmine Davis, from this day forward voluntarily pledge my sword in faithful and honorable service to you. This is my oath of fealty witnessed by all in this room.”

“Well done,” Giles praised and Jas carefully rose, so as not to kink the tubing, and sat in the chair next to Buffy, waiting for the transfusion to finish.

It took two hours for the half unit of blood to finish transfusing. Terry removed the needle and tubing from the two Slayers. “You did well, Jas,” he told her as he placed a cotton ball into the crook of her elbow and bound it there with the self-adherent cohesive wrap.

Alice brought her some orange juice and a couple of chocolate chip cookies Willow had baked in the kitchen while they were waiting. It was an attempt to keep her and Dawn distracted, but Dawn had abandoned her before the cookies went into the oven and sat by her sister for the remainder of the time. 

Staring at Buffy, still unconscious in the chaise, Jas directed her question at Giles, “Shouldn’t Buffy be better now?” There was an element of panic to her voice.

Giles had been wondering that very same question for the last hour and a half at least and he looked over his glasses at Dawn who clearly had been thinking the same thing. The impression Einion had given in his poem was that Juliana had opened her eyes pretty immediately after Adele had sworn her oath.

“I would have thought so, but perhaps our good poet had a flair for the dramatic,” he answered, trying to put the young Slayer at ease, but not entirely convinced himself.

“Maybe I did something wrong,” Jas said, worrying her lip.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Giles bent his knees to look her in the eye. “ _You_ did everything right,” he told her. “If there is any failing here, it’s on my end. Perhaps the oath was too simple… too modern, not enough…” He waved his hand. “Medieval pageantry”

“I could swear again! The blood is fresh. I meant every word, Mr Giles!” she expressed earnestly, tears welling her eyes. “I just… maybe if I concentrate harder.”

Moving from her position next to her sister, Dawn took Jas’ hand in her own. “Your sincerity is never in doubt. You were perfect,” she reassured her. “Thank you _so_ much.”

“I… I need to get some air,” the Slayer said, as she pushed passed Dawn and Giles and left the sanctuary of the lounge.

“What happened?” Willow asked, her brows furrowed, having just passed a distraught and disappointed Jas before rejoining her friends.

“The… uh… blood oath doesn’t appear to be working,” Giles said, his eyes falling to Buffy.

“Maybe… maybe it’s just…” Dawn took in a deep breath to suppress a sob. “A story,” she finished bitterly.

“I don’t believe that,” Willow replied. “I mean, Juliana was a real person. She lived beyond the date the poem was written and she was injured pretty badly too… _and_ it was the same type of dragon!”

“Perhaps she just didn’t take on as much venom and metabolized it. The blood oath was just a coincidence,” Giles proffered quietly sitting down in the chair next to Buffy and placing his hand over hers.

Willow walked over to the coffee table and picked up her copy of the poem and sat down heavily on the sofa, determined to find something.

\----------

_Looking up at her dragon companion, Buffy asked, “How do I fight for it when I’m stuck in here?”_

_“Your back is against the wall, Slayer.”_

_“Literally,” she huffed as she hit the cave wall with the bottom of her fist._

_“What do you normally do?”_

_“Normally…” She let out a breath. “Normally, I regroup and focus, and I then just know I can do it, you know. Like when Angelus… when he had me disarmed, back against the wall just like now, and his sword ready to skewer me.”_

_“Where does that confidence come from?”_

_“My family, my friends… Giles,” she closed her eyes as she just barely breathed his name, a faint whisper of a prayer offered on her lips._

_“Giles,” the firedrake repeated, its voice even._

_“Giles. Even when we were apart and I was angry at him for leaving there was this part of me that held onto everything we’d had, especially during all the… bad that happened that last year in Sunnydale. Deep down I had to believe that eventually we’d let go of all the hurt and anger and become a team again. I reached for that and fought for that… to finally be able to live again… and to fight for the things that mattered. It wasn’t easy and we stumbled a lot along the way, but...” She looked up at the ceiling. “But we forgave each other and moved past it all.”_

_“Your north star… the Watcher.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Tell me.” The firedrake’s red eyes glowed with curiosity. “Why don’t you don’t have that confidence now?”_

_“I do!” she insisted._

_“Do you now?” the drake laughed incredulously. “You sit there defeated, waiting to die.”_

_“Do I have a choice?” she yelled angrily._

_“You had a choice both times you died!” it boomed back at her, its voice echoing off the chamber walls. “Do you honestly think this time is any different?”_

_“What kind of choice was that?” she argued petulantly. “I wasn’t about to let Giles or Dawn die and unleash apocalypses on the world.”_

_“_ _That_ _was your choice! Your Watcher had a pretty good chance of averting the Master’s rise. The prophecy was self-fulfilling. And as for Dawn… she knew what needed to be done-”_

_“And I couldn’t live with losing either of them!”_

_“And yet, they lost you,” the drake stated calmly causing Buffy to look away. “Over there… look.”_

_Buffy turned in the direction the dragon was looking, shocked to see an opening, a tunnel. “What? That wasn’t-”_

_“Listen closely. What do you hear?”_

_Tilting her head, she listened carefully, hearing the faint sound of her mother calling her to dinner, as though she were in her bedroom and her mom calling her from the stairs below. A tear dropped from her lashes. It had been so long._

_“Go to her. It’s warm and dry and safe. She loves you and misses you too.” The beast’s compassion caught Buffy by surprise and she raised her head to study it. Something wasn’t quite right and she knew there had to be more to the firedrake’s offer._

_“Where’s door number two?” she asked._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Door number two. You said I have a choice to get out of here. Door number one: I go to my mom and I accept death. I’m not ready to accept that, so where is door number two?”_

_The great beast shook its head. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. You know that.”_

_Swallowing her panic, Buffy said, “That can’t be it. I don’t get to choose to die in a cavern with… with you! Or follow the tunnel to go spend eternity with my mom in Heaven. I mean, what the hell kind of choice is that? Where is my choice to actually_ _live_ ?”

_“Ah… there’s the Slayer spirit!” the firedrake praised._

_“Damn you! Can’t you just be helpful for once?”_

_“Think!” it yelled back. “You are the Slayer!”_


	9. The Watcher

Chapter 9: The Watcher

Alice entered the lounge and watched the tight band of three engaged in pouring over the poem again, desperately fighting time and searching for answers in the text. Giles’ glasses were abandoned on the coffee table as he sat next to his Slayer, his fingers occasionally reaching out to touch hers as he compared his translations against the Middle Welsh version. Dawn was sprawled out on the large sofa on her tummy, notebook above the manuscript before her with a fair amount of angry doodling in the margins and in between her notes. Willow sat in the lotus position on the love seat against the arm, back hunched over her copy of the poem.

It reminded her of her university days before final exams, only the consequences were much more dire than failing and having to retake the class over.

“I hate to disturb,” Alice said as three pairs of eyes came to rest on her. “But it’s now almost eight and well past dinner. I’d gone ahead and made a cottage pie, so come eat.” No one got up, they just looked at one another. Placing her hands on her hips in a very matronly way, she glared at each of them individually and directed, “Ten minutes to eat isn’t going to make much difference. I’ll stay with her. Go.”

Giles was the first to rise, nodding to the others to do as they were bid. She was right. They’d been at the research for a long time and his muscles were stiff and his stomach rumbled. He appreciated her and Terry’s efforts to take care of them all, knowing he hadn’t exactly been the easiest person to deal with as Buffy’s health had declined. He would make sure they were commended and appropriately compensated for their efforts no matter the outcome.

Dawn and Willow shuffled out of the lounge. Giles stopped to pick up his glasses and in doing so, he gave Alice a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Team effort,” she responded kindly. “Enjoy and eat your fill.” When she was alone, she sat down next to Buffy and gently patted her hand. “You’re a fighter, Buffy, buy them some more time. They need you. _He_ needs you.”

Giles sat down at the dining room table across from Terry with Willow and Dawn on either side, ready to tuck into the cottage pie and roasted Brussel sprouts Alice had made. “Did the Slayers go back to the inn?” he asked.

“Hours ago,” Terry noted. “Alessandra did ask me to speak with you about cleaning up the valley floor. There are quite a few carcasses that need disposal.”

Some movement caught Giles' eye outside the window near an old horse chestnut tree. It was dark, but there was some light from the lamp next to the door and he recognized the silhouette. “Excuse me,” he said as he stood up.

The closing of the front door startled the young Slayer, who jumped before noticing Giles approaching her.

“I was told you had left, Jas,” he said gently.

“I… I couldn’t. I told the others to go on ahead and that I would join them, but I can’t leave. Not while Buffy just lies there,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself as she leaned back against the tree, her tears starting to fall.

Giles walked over to the tree and joined her, leaning his back against the trunk. “None of this is your fault you know,” he explained. “Not her injuries, not the blood oath not taking effect, none of it. Buffy knew the risks going into the battle. That is her job, her calling, and she will fight to defend you, me, her sister, her friends, her Watchers and Slayers, all of humanity, and even an unknown farmer in North Wales whose flock is being thinned out by a weyr of dragons. That is Buffy,” he declared. “You’re quite like her. Your strength, your compassion, your sense of duty, and your dedication to do what is right.”

Sniffing, Jas wiped her eyes. “I bet she never cries,” she said, angry at herself.

“Hero worship can be an ugly thing,” he said, turning and placing a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Of course, she cries. And she laughs, and she gets angry and occasionally lets out some foul language. She belches after drinking a soda quickly. Often she wakes up with appalling bed hair and is tetchy until she’s had a cup of coffee.” Jas stared at him wide-eyed. “Remember the living situation at her house in Sunnydale,” he clarified, so as not to make it sound untoward. “Buffy is a hero, but she is also human. Remember that.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be lying there dying. It’s just... It’s hard to know I might have been the one to save her. Not because I want to be a hero. I don’t care about that,” she quickly added. “But because she would live.”

“You’re a good kid,” he said, placing his arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him, accepting the comfort. “Come inside and have some dinner with us. You must be hungry.”

\----------

_Buffy paced the cavern, nibbling at her thumbnail and keeping her distance from the firedrake. While she was pretty certain it wouldn’t and probably couldn’t hurt her in the cave, she certainly didn’t want to find out._

_“Could you, I don’t know, be still for a few minutes?” it asked with annoyance. “You humans… constantly in motion.”_

_“Sorry, your grumpiness,” she shot back in a black mood. “Walking helps me think and it’s not like I can go take a walk outside!”_

_“You could take a walk down that tunnel! Your mum is still looking for you.”_

_“Shut up!” she ground out._

_“When you figure it out, let me know,” it said, yawning and tucking its head around its body to rest on its tail._

_“Yeah, you’ll be the first,” Buffy grumbled under her breath. She blew out a relieved breath when she noticed the red glint from the dragon's eyes had disappeared. It was asleep or pretending to be. Either way, it was quiet and she could try to piece her thoughts together and think of a way to get back to Giles and her sister and her friends._

_She sat down on a bench-like formation and looked around at her surroundings. They’d stayed constant since the tunnel had opened up. Leaning over with her hands clasped and elbows on her knees, she pleaded, “Come on, Giles, find a way to counteract the venom.” Her eyes went big in realization. “Giles,” she said, closing her eyes and focusing on him, trying to find the bond to call to him._

_\----------_

“Giles,” Willow called to him, her voice indicating she had found something of note.

“Hmm?” he asked, lifting his head. Dawn stopped her research and looked up, interested.

“Percy is a prominent and old, noble family name, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “Originally having been granted lands in Yorkshire by one of William the Conqueror’s men, if I recall correctly, and then later having been invested as Earls of Northumberland.”

“Yes, yes, and Adela… is Adela Percy. We assumed she was a potential, but an old, noble family could mean-”

His eyes grew wide and he pointed his pen at her, gesticulating wildly as he interrupted before quickly pulling out his mobile phone and dialing a number he knew by heart. “Xander?”

“Hey, Giles, how’s Buffy?” Xander asked, his voice panicked, hoping that this wasn’t the call with bad news. 

“She’s... hanging in there. Unconscious and feverish now. I’m afraid we are running out of time.”

“Damn! We’re getting nowhere on an antidote. The chemical make up is just… complex and we’re testing blood from different animals for antibodies, but it’s a… you were right. It’s gonna take too long,” he admitted.

“We may have a lead. I need you to search for the name of Juliana of Chester’s Watcher.”

“I can do that. Let me get to the computer and hit the Slayer database,” he said, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sat down at his desk. “Tell Wil we owe her one for setting this up. Hang on, putting you on speaker so I can type.”

Giles leaned back in his chair, waiting for Xander to answer his question.

“Wait… so Adela is the Watcher?” Dawn asked, flipping back through her copy of the manuscript. “I thought it was the dude.”

“Still could be,” Giles said. “But I am going to hazard a guess that he’s not.”

“Ugh! We just assumed!”

“Well, we would, wouldn’t we? I mean, it’s the Middle Ages, there wasn’t much rah-rah female power going on,” Willow stated. “I mean it’s all patriarchy and male primogeniture.” She rolled her eyes.

“Noble women did have some agency, some were very powerful,” he noted. “Eleanor of Aquitaine, Empress Matilda, Adelicia of Louvain, Christine de Pizan, to name a few.”

“Hey, Giles,” Xander said after the search returned with a result. “Yeah, so her Watcher was Adela Percy.”

Giles slammed his fist down on the table. He should have known. “Thank you, Xander. I need to ring off. I think we’ve finally got it.”

“You’ll call back as soon as you know, right?” he asked. “Damn, I hate being out of the loop!”

“Yes, of course. Thanks.” Giles hit the button to disconnect the call and brought his attention back to Dawn and Willow, who were both looking at him in anticipation. “Adela was her Watcher,” he confirmed, running both hands through his hair.

“I’ll get Terry. Giles, you’re good with swearing fealty to Buffy?” Dawn asked.

“Of course!” He stopped himself. “I… I actually already have. When I swore my Watcher Oath to her upon her being found. Why wouldn’t it have been effective with the first intake of my blood?”

“Would you have had to do it in person?” Willow asked.

He shook his head. “Distance doesn’t matter.”

“Adela would’ve had to have sworn before too, right? I mean assuming mystical tradition and all that, so maybe it is a reaffirmation,” she suggested.

“Perhaps so,” he agreed. “I… need to think.”

“I’ll… go make some tea,” Willow said with a smile. “This is gonna work, Giles, I know it.”

  
When he was alone, he looked at Buffy, lying on the chaise beside him, her breathing shallow, and replied softly, “It has to.”

\---------

_Buffy sat on the outcrop, her attention focused on her Watcher. “Giles,” she whispered. “I need you. Help me out of here. I can’t do this alone.”_

\----------

Settling back in his chair and taking a deep breath, Giles felt a warm tug in his chest and he placed his hand over it. He’d felt it before when he and Buffy had worked on the bond, calling one another. He thought he’d felt it on the battlefield when he was searching for her, but he’d been fairly certain that that had been wishful thinking.

Closing his eyes, he took her good hand in his and breathed her name.

\----------

_Buffy felt a familiar pull from within. She didn’t dare put too much hope into it, but she couldn’t help the feeling of excitement that welled from within at the thought that he might have heard her and was trying to communicate back. In an attempt to settle her nerves, she shook out her hands, took a couple of steadying deep breaths, and envisioned his face in her mind._

_“Giles,” she called, keeping her voice calm so as not to disturb the drake sleeping across the cavern from her._

\----------

Feeling the tug again, his eyes opened in recognition. She _was_ using the bond to communicate with him. She was fighting. He moved and pressed his forehead against her temple.

“Hang on, love, we’ve finally got it.”

\----------

_Buffy took a deep breath as the pull grew stronger. She suddenly felt she could breathe easier. Giles had answered her call. Whatever the outcome would be, at least they’d established a connection. She rubbed the area over her chest where she felt the pull and the warmth._

_“You are less restless,” the firedrake stated, lifting its head from the cave floor and flexing its wings in what appeared to be a stretch._

_“I’m good,” Buffy replied with a shrug._

_Tilting its head, the red eyes glowed as it took in her demeanor. “Figured it out, have you? Door number two?”_

_“And if I have?”_

_“Depends on timing, I guess. Your mother still calls,” it noted, as it shifted its gaze to the tunnel. The light emanating from it had grown brighter._

_“I’m good,” she replied. “Mom would want me to wait this one out.”_

_The beast eyeballed her. “Your choice,” it said after a while._

_A serene smile graced her lips. “Yeah, it is.”_

\----------

Terry entered the lounge with the medical equipment followed by Dawn, Willow, Alice, and Jas. Giles stood by Buffy, his shirt sleeve already rolled up past his elbow. 

He gave a warm look to Jas. “It’s a Watcher thing,” he said.

She smiled at him, relief in her eyes. “They told me,” she replied. “Good luck.”

Prepping both his patients, Terry hooked them up and started the transfusion. “Let’s give it a few minutes and then you can recite your oath,” he suggested to Giles.

Giles nodded before he scanned the faces of those surrounding him. It was a good group of family and loyal new friends. Xander was missing but was there in spirit. Dawn came over to him and put her hand in his and, squeezing it, said quietly, “Regardless of what happens, we’re stuck together, remember?”

“For a long while,” he promised sincerely.

“All right, Jas, you and I need to clear out,” Alice stated with finality. “We’ll just be on the other side of the screen should you need us.”

“You remember your oath?” Willow teased Giles with a wide grin.

“It’s not one I could forget.”

“It’s fairly short and simple.” Dawn shrugged, “Even I’ve memorized it.”

Giles raised his brows and turned to look at her.

“Well, I mean, it’s… I do want to become an active Watcher. I’ve been studying in my free time. I’m glad my sister has you. Every Slayer deserves someone like you. I just hope I can be half as good.”

Giles let go of her hand and cupped her cheek. He was so proud of her. “You’ve already proven yourself quite the Watcher, Dawn. You will do your Slayer proud,” he told her. “You’ve already done your sister proud… and me.”

“And me!” Willow chimed in enthusiastically.

Taking a deep breath, Giles carefully turned towards Buffy, careful of the tubing, and knelt beside her. He removed the signet ring from his pinky. His father had given it to him the day he’d said his oath to Buffy before heading off to Sunnydale. It had his family’s crest embossed in the onyx. Placing the ring between their palms, he covered her hand with his free one.

“Buffy,” he whispered, invoking the bond again. “I am here.”

\----------

_Feeling the pull once more, stronger this time, Buffy stood up and looked around the cavern. There was still only one tunnel leading out, but she felt that couldn’t be right and started to walk around the cavern, running her feelings along the rock wall, checking for false doors._

_“What are you doing?” the firedrake asked, shifting its bulk as it watched the Slayer inspect the walls._

_“Looking for the way out,” she replied._

_“If you find it, let me know, I need to stretch my wings properly. The space is too tight in here,” it said._

\----------

Giles bowed his head, touching his forehead to their joined hands. “Buffy Summers,” he called, his voice strong and unwavering, “From this day forward, I, Rupert Giles, faithfully and honorably pledge my life to yours. I promise to watch over you, prepare you, train you, and support you. In battle my sword is yours and I am yours to command. Furthermore, I promise to honor you, cherish you, love you, and care for you always, for I am yours, body and soul, until we are parted by death. This is my oath.”

Dawn took in a sharp breath, her eyes widening in surprise, causing Willow to look at her quizzically. Dawn grabbed her friend’s hand and moved closer to her, her expression one of worry and confusion.

\----------

_Buffy stopped her progress, suddenly able to hear Giles’ voice, strong and sincere, his words of allegiance and loyalty calling to her as he recited his oath, but her heart nearly stopped at the additional sentence he’d tacked on and she fell to her knees._

_“That’s_ _not_ _the oath,” the dragon tutted pointedly._

_“It’s included,” she said as a tear fell down her cheek._

_“He’s asking you to accept more.”_

_“I know.”_

_“You don’t have to,” it told her. “But then your choice remains door number one or… well, me.”_

_Buffy stood. “You are wrong,” she told the dragon. “I can accept all or part of it.”_

_“You’re sure?”_

_“Absolutely,” she stated with certainty. “Because he would never force me to accept anything I didn’t want.” Looking around the cave, she desperately searched for the way out. “Giles!” she called._

\----------

Giles felt the now familiar tug in his chest as Buffy’s fingers tightened around his hand and he raised his head to look for signs she was moving towards consciousness. He could see rapid eye movement beneath her eyelids. “That’s it, love,” he said quietly, tightening his grip around hers. “I am here.”

Dawn noticed Buffy’s movements and started to go to her, but Willow pulled her back. “It has to be Giles,” she reminded her in a whisper.

“Buffy,” he called. “I am here.”

\----------

_“Giles!” She raced around the cavern, feeling the pull from her Watcher as she searched for the exit. She briefly stopped at the tunnel opening where she’d heard her mother calling her for dinner. It was still lit, but not as brightly as before, and instead of hearing her mom call, she saw her standing just beyond the threshold. “It’s not my time, Mom,” she said, shaking her head. “I am needed out there. Dawn, Giles, my friends, and the Slayers and Watchers, they all need me.”_

_“I know, honey,” Joyce agreed. “Go._ _Live_ _.”_

_Buffy smiled and nodded and continued to look for the way out, knowing she was getting closer as the pull got stronger. When she came to the area the firedrake had occupied, she found it empty. The red eyes she’d become accustomed to seeing in the dimly lit cave they’d shared were gone. The wings that it had stretched and its great, big body no longer inhabited a large section of the cavern._

_Approaching the area cautiously for fear the dragon had perhaps camouflaged itself better, she eventually found that the space had indeed been vacated, and as she approached the cave wall, she found an opening just slightly off her line of sight._

_The light was harsh and she turned her face from it as she inched her way closer. “Giles? This is it, right?” she asked._

\----------

“Come on, Buffy,” he encouraged, squeezing her hand between his. “Come back to me.”

Buffy’s eyelids fluttered.

“I am here. I’ll always be here,” he promised her.

Her eyes opened and she found herself staring into his soft green ones. “Giles,” she whispered.

“Buffy,” he breathed, lost in emotion, he smiled in relief as a tear fell from his left eye.

“You did it!” she said, her voice raspy and small.

“No, we _all_ did it,” he replied as he removed his hands, leaving his ring in hers and gestured towards Dawn and Willow to join him at her side.

“Buffy!” Dawn exclaimed as she joined her sister by the bed.

Giles stood and shifted himself to allow her sister and best friend to have some time with her. There would be time for them to talk later. 

Terry quickly stepped in to remove the needle and the tubing and patched him up.

Giles watched Dawn and Willow fuss over his Slayer before he removed himself from the lounge to give Alice and Jas the news of Buffy’s recovery.

“Give them a few moments longer,” he told and Alice.

She squinted her eyes and asked, “Where are you going?”

“I need… to call Xander and stretch my legs. I’ll be back soon,” he answered as he headed towards the door.

\----------

Giles returned to a quiet house, a single lamp in the kitchen was the only source of light. It was late in the evening. He hadn’t quite expected to be gone so late, but he needed some time to process his emotions. Over the last few days, he’d run the gamut and he was exhausted. He knew if he was needed, one of the team would call his mobile phone. He did receive a text from Willow asking if he was all right. He’d responded that he was and that he'd needed to take a walk. He’d asked if Buffy needed him and she’d replied that Buffy had asked after him. His answer to her had been that he’d be back soon.

As he shut the door behind him, he noticed the partition had been removed and that the lounge had been cleaned up and returned to its normal state. He stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. He opened it, tossing the bottle cap on the counter, and took a sip, foregoing his usual habit of pouring it into a glass.

There was movement on the stairs. It was Dawn.

“You’ve given blood a couple of times recently, probably not a good idea,” she said gently. “Where did you go?”

He placed the bottle down on the counter and shook his head. “Around. I don’t really know. I just… needed to walk.”

  
  
“You okay?”

“I will be. How is she?”

“Asleep now, but she was waiting for your return.”

“I’m sorry,” Giles replied as he gazed up the stairwell.

“Terry says she’s healing up nicely. The gash on her head is nearly gone and her shoulder already looks like the wound is at least a month old on a normal person. It’s sore and she’s not keen on keeping it immobilized, which means she’ll start using it sometime tomorrow.”

He nodded.

“You wanna tell me about the oath?”

“What more is there to say?” He asked, pushing the bottle cap around this index finger.

“God, Giles! We could’ve lost her forever!”

He shook his head. “We didn’t know what Adela’s oath was. We assumed it was the Watcher’s Oath because that made sense. So I recited it, declaring my commitment to her as Watcher again. There was no harm in the other.”

“They were _wedding vows!”_

An awkward silence stretched between them. Only the sound of the bottle cap’s abrasive shuffling against the countertop disturbed the solitude.

After several long moments, he declared quietly, “I love her.”

Dawn exhaled a deep breath. “I know.”

“She...er... she told me the other night that she’s in love with me too.”

“I know she is.”

Dawn picked up his bottle of beer and took a swig from it. He wasn’t going to chide her. She’d earned it and she was almost eighteen.

“I want to go to her, but…”

“Get some sleep, Giles. I’ll sit up with her tonight. When she wakes, I’ll tell her that you came back safe and sound and that I sent you to bed.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stay with Buffy. He desperately did, but his emotions were so raw and he needed to decompress.

“Go up, grab a shower, and hit the hay.”

Pushing the beer bottle towards her, he said, “Finish it.” She hugged him to her and he kissed the top of her head in familial fashion. “I am so proud of you.”

“Likewise,” she replied.

He made his way up the stairs and stopped by Buffy’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he looked in. Alice was sitting with her while she slept. She’d obviously taken a bath or shower while he’d been out, her long hair still damp, but clean. She looked peaceful — the first time since before the battle.

Trudging on to one of the spare rooms, he toed off his shoes and sat down on the bed. Deciding to take a shower in the morning, he removed his jeans and shirt and climbed under the covers. Within moments, he was fast asleep.


	10. Beginnings

Chapter 10: Beginnings

Giles woke to a beautiful, clear, and crisp autumn morning. After getting dressed, he made his way down to the kitchen, where he noticed the windows open throughout the main floor, allowing for a pleasant cross-breeze. The house smelled fresh and for the first time in days, he could focus on something other than impending disaster. He sat down at the dining room table and greeted Terry and Alice, who clearly had been up for a while. Alice acknowledged him with a nod, fully engrossed in the local newspaper.

Terry poured himself another cup of coffee in the kitchen before joining Giles at the table. “I think I am going to head home in a few hours,” he said, taking a slice of toast and spreading some marmalade on it. “Buffy is healing nicely, but I’ll do one more checkup before I leave just to be safe.”

“She did have a quiet night last night,” Alice agreed. “Nice to see her not in pain. I left about two in the morning when Dawn came in and stayed with her through the night. Admittedly, I was surprised you didn’t insist on staying with her, Giles.”

“Yes, well-” he replied, pouring himself a cup of tea from the pot on the table. 

“I insisted he get some sleep,” Dawn stated as she descended the stairs, followed by Jas, Willow, and Buffy, who brought up the rear rather slowly, her left arm still resting in a sling. “I can be pretty persuasive when I want.”

“That is true,” he agreed, lifting his mug in salute before taking a sip of his tea. “Good morning ladies,” he greeted, but his eyes were trained on his Slayer and she gave him a warm smile in return.

“Toast!” Jas exclaimed, enthusiastically grabbing a slice before sitting down at the table. “Ooooo and marmalade!”

“Jas, when you see Alessandra, tell her to meet me and Willow at the command area at one this afternoon. We need to do some cleanup.”

“That will work. I spoke with her before we came down. She’d like to get us back to London before too late tonight.”

“Terry is headed home today as well.”

“I’ll stay until the morning if you need,” Alice volunteered.

“I think I’m good, seriously guys,” Buffy insisted. “We could all probably leave this afternoon if we wanted.”

“Tired of my hovering are you?” Alice asked with a wink.

“Honestly, I could use a little less surveillance,” she laughed. “Seriously, though, I’m ready to go.”

“I think you need one more day of rest,” Terry counseled. “Let the Slayer reserves tank up.”

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her doctor.

Reaching for another slice of toast, Giles slathered on some extra butter and raspberry jam. “As much as I’d rather leave this area, I have to agree with Terry,” Giles said, addressing Buffy before handing it to her in apology.

“Of course you would,” she groused. “But thanks for the toast. Raspberry jam is my favorite.”

“I know,” he said with a smile.

\----------

The battlefield cleanup required the Slayers to remove a dozen firedrake claws to assist with Xander’s scientific team’s search for an antidote and anything else that might benefit from learning more about the venom, and a rather sizable spell. It normally wouldn’t have phased Giles too much, considering he and Willow were sharing the burden, but he found his energy reserves were still very much depleted.

He and Willow said goodbye to the loyal band of Slayers, but before Jas got into the van, she approached Giles and asked, “I… I don’t know whether I am sworn to Buffy or not. I mean I made a blood oath, but…”  
  
“An oath of fealty must be accepted in order for it to take effect and something must be given in return to seal the oath. Because she wasn’t able to hear it, she could neither acknowledge nor accept your oath.”

“Oh…” She looked disappointed.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder in comfort. “I will make sure Buffy knows of your commitment to her, Jas, but I don’t really think it is a good idea to reintroduce feudalism in the new Council. We’re trying to push forward into the future, not take several steps backward,” he explained.

“Yeah, makes sense,” she replied before giving him a hug. “Thanks.”

Returning the embrace, he said, “Thank _you_.”

Giles and Willow watched the van pull onto the road and waved when Alessandra honked the horn to say goodbye.

When the vehicle was out of sight, Willow asked, “Was your oath of fealty accepted?”

“It was,” he stated. “She returned to us. I would think that would have meant that it was acknowledged.”

“What has she given in return?”

“Ah… the Watcher’s Oath is different. It does not require acknowledgement or acceptance by the Slayer, nor is it usually a blood oath.”

“I’m not talking about the Watcher’s Oath.”

His jaw tightened. “I see. Dawn-”

“I have ears too, you know. I was standing right there!” Willow protested. “Kinda hard to miss.”

“She hasn’t accepted it, but then we haven’t spoken about it at all.”

“Well, you should.”

“I am sure we will,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She was pretty upset with your disappearing act last night, but she said she understood.”

  
  
“I will apologize.”

“Good. Just… don’t hurt her.”

“Why would I-”

“You’re a guy. A pretty awesome guy, Giles, but still a guy and Buffy hasn’t been so lucky in the guy department for… well, let’s just say forever. Just be the awesome guy that you are and that she deserves. I’d hate to have to turn you into a rat,” she half-teased and half-threatened.

He gave her a fond look and said, “Come on. Let’s see if the Summers sisters have declared all-out war yet. Dawn said something about a game of Rummy before we left and there was smack talk.”

“Oh, goddess!” Willow declared with a laugh.

\----------

The little group sat in the lounge enjoying each other’s company before the dying embers in the fireplace, drinking tea and hot cocoa. Buffy sat on the sofa next to Giles and leaned into him. He smiled down at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She couldn’t help but snuggle into him and sigh contentedly.

“So you basically had this hallucination dream with a talking dragon,” Dawn summed up. “Must’ve been some painkillers.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy shrugged. “Seemed very real. Parts of it anyway.” She’d deliberately left out the part about their mom, only mentioning that the tunnel was a path to the light since Dawn was still sensitive about their mother’s passing several years later. “The firedrake was annoying and cryptic, though, most definitely a hallucination.”

“Well, I’ve read that dreams about dragons can be interpreted to symbolize personal empowerment,” Willow advised with a smile.

“Huh,” Buffy uttered. “Well, hopefully, I am empowered enough for a while. I’ve had my limit.”

“Agreed,” Giles said stifling a yawn.

“Well kids, early day tomorrow,” Dawn started as she got up. “I’m going to head back with Willow. We’re going to get an early start and stop in Cardiff on the way to say thanks to Rhodri and fill him in on all the drama.”

“Plus there’s a great magick shop in the Central Market I’ve heard great things about,” Willow added.

Buffy turned and looked up at Giles, “I guess that means I’m riding back with you.”

“Well, I would hope you wouldn’t abandon me to the wilds of Wales on my own,” he said, extracting himself from her embrace.

“I’ve got one more night of Buffy duty,” Dawn announced.

“I don’t need a sitter, Dawn.”

“I know, but… it would be weird to do the sleepover thing at home and I need some big sister time,” Dawn told her as she gave Buffy her best and saddest, puppy-dog eyes.

Buffy looked to Giles with some regret. They needed to talk, but her sister needed the reassurance. Figuring that they would have at least four hours in the car on their way back, depending on traffic in and around London to discuss her bedside confession and his oath, she relented.

“Okay, fine,” she indulged her sister with a teasing huff. “But if you start snoring, I’m kicking you out!”

\-----------

Buffy and Giles watched as Willow and Dawn packed the last of their things into Willow’s car.

Dawn approached them with her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans. “So, I’ll see ya back at home whenever,” she told her sister.

“Umm… better be tonight,” Buffy replied with some finality.

“I thought I’d stay at Willow’s. She’s going to meet up with a few friends for dinner and maybe go to a club tonight and said I could tag along if I wanted.”

Buffy pointedly looked at Willow, who just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and said, “It is a Friday night.”

“It is? I guess I lost a couple of days there.” She placed her focus back on her sister. “Okay, go have fun, but not too much fun.”

Dawn hugged her with her usual enthusiasm, sparing some care for Buffy’s sore shoulder. “Thank you! And I gotta say it’s so much nicer being able to give you a proper hug. I’m so glad that dumb sling is gone.”

“Me too.”

“And now you,” Dawn said as she put her arms around Giles. She placed her chin on his shoulder and whispered, “Take the scenic route.”

Letting her go, he chuckled, “Subtle.”

“Not even in the slightest,” she answered with a wink.

After Willow got her hugs, Giles and Buffy waved them off.

“I’ll… I’ll do a sweep of the cottage to see if we missed anything,” he said, turning to go back inside. Admittedly, he was a bit nervous now that they’d been left alone.

Buffy bit her lip and stopped him. “You know what? I’m not fully packed just yet, so why don’t I do that?”

“Oh, okay, I’ll just put my bags in the Rover and er… I’ll make us some tea to go. I found my thermos when I was packing earlier.”

Smiling at his mention of making tea, she agreed, “That would be great.”

Giles groaned at the awkwardness between them and picked up his bags to throw them into the back of the SUV. Upon opening the back door, he stopped short at the sight of soaked up and dried blood in the cargo area — Buffy’s blood — and all the anxiety of the first several hours of the crisis came rushing back to him. Slamming the door, he stormed over to the side of the vehicle, opened the door and threw his bags onto the back seat.

After taking a few, long moments to breathe deeply and reduce his stress levels, he decided to take a quick walk around the immediate property. The golden leaves rustled in the breeze as the light from the midmorning sun danced on the ground between the shadows they cast. The shiny gleam off of a freshly fallen chestnut caught his attention and he picked it up and ran his thumb over the silky smooth surface. It was the perfect size and shape for a game of conkers. He’d spent many an autumn afternoon after school trying to destroy his classmates’ conkers. He quietly pocketed the chestnut and leaned against the tree from which it fell, listening to the birds chatter away back and forth at one another.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Buffy said quietly on approach. She’d just set her bags in the backseat of the Range Rover when she’d noticed him leaning against the tree down near the edge of a field.

“It is,” he agreed congenially as he turned to greet her with a smile. “I thought I might hate it, but I find it rather charming.”

“Because of what happened to me,” she guessed.

“Quite,” he responded, turning his attention back out towards the field. She was so astute and in tune with his emotions.

“I uh… look, I’m not really sure how to address this, Giles, but you’ve been kind of Mr Avoidance since I came to. I mean, last night was nice cuddling against you for a bit, but for a guy who reswore his Watcher’s Oath to me as a blood oath and then recited a variance of the wedding vows, your prickliness is sort of giving off conflicting vibes.”

“Heard those, did you?” he asked, turning to look at her.

“You didn’t think I would? You invoked the bond.” 

“We’d only been able to feel the other’s presence through the bond, not hear one another. I-I wasn’t sure.”

“There was blood involved and you swore on your signet ring, which I am guessing means an awful lot to you,” she said, pulling the ring from her pocket and holding it out to him. “You left it with me when you made a quick exit after I woke up.”

He didn’t take it so she put it back in her pocket.

“Anyway, I think all that opened the lines of communication, so to speak. You came through pretty loud and clear….” she trailed off and when he didn’t respond, she continued, “Look, it was a pretty intense time, I get it. I don’t have to accept the second part of the oath if things were said because you wanted to give me some happiness in the face of death and then were just sort of caught up in the moment-”

“No!” he protested, taking her hands in his. “No, I wouldn’t do that to you! Ever!” He took her hands in hers and gazed into her eyes earnestly. “I _love_ you!”

“So, why all the hesitancy? The awkwardness?”

“I…” he sighed and looked down at the ground between them. “These past few days have been hell, Buffy, I won’t prevaricate. I have lost you twice before and I have lost count of the times I‘ve almost lost you and I am sure there are countless other times that you haven’t told me about.” Raising his eyes to hers he confessed, “Part of me doubted very much whether I am strong enough to endure it again.” 

“Giles, I’m not looking for an apocalypse to run headlong into or to go toe to toe with demons on a daily, monthly, or even yearly basis,” she assured him. “I’m not gonna lie, the adrenaline was pumping and being on the battlefield again with you and Wil and Xander again was really cool, but we’ve got a bunch of _really_ talented Slayers out there who proved they are perfectly capable of doing their jobs. Your team, Alessandra and her team, especially Jas… I mean, she’s going to make an outstanding leader someday soon!

“If there is anything that this experience has taught me,” she continued. “It’s that I am perfectly happy running the show from behind a desk and letting somebody else take the glory when the next mythical beast shows up through a portal and wreaks havoc on some unsuspecting part of the world. I don’t need to be the field commander.”

“I don’t want you saying this for my sake, Buffy. My Watcher’s Oath to you… You are the Slayer and I am yours to command. I will not waiver," he promised, shaking his head. "I don’t doubt my strength anymore.”

“God, Giles,” she responded, her heart in her throat as her mossy green eyes searched his familiar, paler ones. “I want so much to grow old with you and find out what life has to offer us, lord knows it owes us that! I want to be able to say my own vows to you sooner rather than later. And as for adrenaline, there are so many other ways to get that rush — sitting on the back of your motorbike as we wind our way through the countryside, heading to a romantic B&B on the Cornish coast or maybe doing some hiking and kayaking in the Lake District, or visiting Thailand, or maybe just sitting back watching the grandkids’ soccer tournaments and getting all crazy when they score a goal.”

“Football,” he said automatically.

“That’s what you get out of all of that?” she laughed.

“Grandkids-“ he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“A possibility,”

“That would mean-“

“It’s not something we need to discuss now. I mean jeez, you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He chuckled and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers as the air between them grew thick with need. “Let me correct that oversight,” he murmured as he closed the gap between them. With only a few centimeters separating them, Giles raised his eyes to meet hers again before the fell to her mouth. “I love you, Buffy Summers,” he whispered. “I am yours, body and soul.”

“God, how I love you, Giles,” she breathed before his lips finally found hers in a series of tender kisses.

Cradling her face between his hands he deepened the kiss and introduced his tongue to hers, needing more. Buffy circled her arms around his neck in response, threading her fingers through his hair and drawing him closer.

The air grew heady around them as they explored one another with their lips, tongues, and hands, and Giles shuffled them back towards the tree so he could lean against it to keep his balance as things grew heated between them. Her skin tingled at his touch and she was so turned on, it was hard to stop, but she pulled away in an effort to slow things down and Giles placed his forehead against hers, their heavy makeout session leaving them both breathing heavily.

“We should stop,” he said even as every nerve ending in his body screamed at him to continue. He certainly wanted her, but his desire for her was more than just physical. He needed her to fill the emotional and spiritual deficit that had built up within him over the last several days. It was palpable, the need to surround himself by her and to lose himself within her.

“Let’s go inside,” she suggested, taking his hand in hers. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You were literally within death’s grasp and your shoulder still has to be sore.”

“Giles, I’m a Slayer, and thanks to magickal healing Watcher blood, the Watcher Oath, and one serious and mystical wedding vow, I am seriously feeling no pain or bad after-effects.”

He gave her a mischievous smile before quickly picking her up in a bridal carry. She let out a surprised yelp and laughed as he carried her towards the cottage and through the front door. Looking up the stairs, he was damned if he would bring her up to the room she’d spent the last several days in.

As if reading his mind, she said, “Let’s go to yours.”

He carried her up the stairs and set her down in front of the bed, a little winded. “It’s so much sexier in the movies,” he joked.

“Oh, believe me, it’s sexy,” she assured him as she sauntered towards him and wrapped her arms around him. “It turns a girl on when her man sweeps in with the romantic gestures.”

“Does it now?” 

Standing on her tiptoes, she ran her hand through his hair, and he bent his head to meet her halfway. “Yeah,” she murmured against his lips. “So very turned on.”

“Christ!” he breathed, just before her luscious pink lips met his in a sensuous kiss that led to more kisses and bolder explorations of each other’s bodies. Giles moved his left hand down her spine and squeezed her backside, pulling her flush against him, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire straining against his jeans.

Trailing kisses along his jawline, Buffy whispered against his ear, “Feels like you are turned on too.” 

Her breath against his earlobe caused him to shudder. “I want to take my time with you,” he muttered against the junction between her neck and collar bone. “I want to slowly undress you, drink in your beauty as each curve and plane of your body is unveiled to me. I want to touch, kiss, and taste every inch of you.”

Arousal ran through her like wildfire as his words took her breath away and she reached for the hem of his navy blue henley shirt. He stepped back and helped her pull it off, exposing his chest and torso to her. She’d seen him without a shirt a few times before, having trained with him, and of course, slaying wasn’t exactly easy on the wardrobe. But this time she was seeing him for the first time as a lover. His shoulders, arms, and pecs were well defined and she wanted to run her fingers through the smattering of hair across his chest. It looked soft and inviting and his nipples stood out in stark contrast, begging to be touched… and licked, but she held off as her eyes trailed down his chest. There was a little middle-age spread, but for the most part, he was trim and fit.

Her eyes rested on his jeans, his cock straining against the fly and she reached to undo his belt. Before she could unbutton the fly, he moved his fingers to the top button of her blouse. Deliberately and slowly, he unbuttoned each one, stopping when he revealed the rise of her breasts nestled in pink lace.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, as his left thumb lightly circled her nipple before returning to his task of ridding her of her shirt. When he was done, he pushed the garment from her shoulders and she shrugged it off. The wounds from the dragon and the surgery only left a few large red lines. In a week or so, there would be no trace of the injury, only harsh memories etched on his heart.

Leaning down he reverently kissed the scars over her collarbone.

“Giles,” she whispered, knowing he could get caught up in his thoughts, especially when they involved her. “Touch me.”

Kneeling before her, he brought his hands up to palm her breasts through her bra, her nipples taut and sensitive to his touch. He replaced his right hand with his tongue, tracing her areola through the lace before teasing her nipple. 

“Oh god,” she whimpered, combing her fingers through his hair. Her body was on fire and she needed more.

He let out a soft sigh as he moved to kiss her just beneath the band of her bra before unbuttoning her jeans. Placing his fingers on the zipper, he looked up at her. She smiled and trailed her fingers lovingly down his cheek. Capturing her hand with his free one, he placed a devotional kiss on her palm before letting go and returning to his task of undressing her.

He slowly drew down the zipper, revealing the matching pink lace panties. “That is incredibly sexy,” he uttered, before pulling her jeans down. “Sit on the bed.” It was more of a request than a command and she moved a few steps backward to do as he asked. He removed her boots and her socks before ridding her of her jeans. He rose from his kneeling position and tossed them onto the dresser. Standing before her, he toed off his shoes and ankle socks and undid the button fly of his jeans. He quickly shucked his jeans and shorts at the same time. 

Buffy took in a deep breath. Naked Giles was beautiful and apparently he liked what he saw too because he was hot and hard and impressive. She longed to touch him.

Reaching around, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor before scooting back towards the head of the bed and settling herself on the pillows. “Join me, my love,” she invited.

He crawled up the bed partway before placing a kiss just above the panty line, then one on her mound before he tongued her through the already soaked fabric.

God, he was such a tease. She was already so close from his touch and the heightened emotions that her legs were trembling. When he slipped his fingers beneath her undies, lightly brushing against her, she started to move against him.

“Please, Giles,” she begged.

He quickly removed her knickers and ran his tongue along her slit and around the highly sensitized nub before gently latching on and sucking at her clit.

“Oh god!” she exclaimed as she grabbed the spindles of the wrought iron headboard.

Teasing her entrance with his fingers, he thrust them into her and established a rhythm. She writhed against him, lost in the sensations produced by his talented mouth and fingers and within moments she came hard against him, calling his name.

He gently released her and joined her on the pillows. She desperately reached for him and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I love you!” she declared.

He pulled away, gently brushing her hair from her face, and placed a loving kiss on her lips, feeling her response in kind as they expressed their love in a series of light, sensuous kisses, and touches in the afterglow. When she had recovered, she escalated their play, running her fingers over his tight nipples and he let out a soft moan.

Moving to straddle his thighs, Buffy leaned over and kissed her way down his chest and belly and over to his hip, deliberately ignoring a very insistent and rock hard part of his anatomy that begged for her touch.

Kissing down his thigh, she moved her body down further on the bed to strategically position herself before running her fingers along his hard, thick cock. She studied it a moment before running her tongue along the underside.

Giles grabbed the bed sheets as a growl left his throat. She smiled to herself and licked around the head before taking him deep into her mouth. Releasing him, she stroked his shaft from head to base, before going down on him again, gently sucking and stroking, before applying more pressure.

She established a cadence and found herself highly turned on by the groans and growls emanating from his throat, the ache between her legs signaling a desperate need for more. Releasing his cock, she moved back up to straddle his hips and ran her slit along his shaft slicking him with her wet heat.

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. “Buffy, love, I came to Wales to herd firedrakes through a portal. I’m afraid I am woefully unprepared for this. As much as I love the idea of grandchildren being a part of the future I want to have with you, I think perhaps, I’d like to spend a little time as a couple before adding any progeny into our lives.”

She giggled. “I seriously love you! Only you can tell me you didn’t bring condoms in a full paragraph with words like firedrake, woefully, and progeny.”

He laughed with her. It was rather ridiculous.

“No worries, I’m on the pill,” she said, leaning down and giving him a kiss. “I’m not ready to start a family right now either. I’m gonna be a bit selfish for a while. I nearly missed out on all of this.” Looking away and biting her lip, she decided to allow her heart to guide her to the right words. Searching his jade green eyes, she vowed, “Rupert Giles, I, Buffy Summers, promise to honor you, cherish you, love you, and care for you always. You are my heart, and I am yours, body and soul, and I promise that not even death can part us. This is my oath.”

He sat up and gently took her face between his hands, kissing her softly. She responded in kind as they worshipped one another, and, as the passion between them grew, their need to complete one another did as well. When they were ready, Buffy rolled her hips, taking Giles deep within her. They held still, savoring the connection between them for several heartbeats before Giles placed his hands on her waist and she started to undulate against him, setting a steady pace that increased exponentially, taking them to new heights until finally, he felt her begin to spasm around him and he let himself go, crashing over the edge with her.

Finding himself curled around her as the midafternoon sun spilled through the windows, Giles kissed her just below the ear. “You awake?" he whispered.

“Yeah,” she said, turning in his arms. “Just woke up about 5 minutes ago.”

He caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. “We should get dressed and head home. I’d rather not be driving after dark, though I expect with stops, we’ll get back after sundown.”

“Or we could just stay the night,” she suggested.

He shook his head as he looked beyond her. “I would rather we didn’t, as charming as it is…”

“Yeah, I get it,” she agreed. “I just am loving the waking up in your arms thing.”

“Perhaps we could discuss a way to make that an everyday occurrence on the way back. I would rather not be sleeping in a separate domicile from my wife if I can help it.”

She smiled and kissed him soundly, before getting out of bed. “Wife... huh... I like that.”

“Well you did say some vows and we’ve just… uh… consummated… things.”

“True,” she said, picking her bra up off the floor before sitting down beside him “Wanna do it again?”

“Often!” he declared with a wolfish grin, pulling her back down into bed with him. Admiring her naked form lying next to him he praised, “You really are exquisite.”

“Well, you're not so bad yourself,” she returned, placing a kiss on his shoulder and trailing her fingers over his chest and down his belly before squeezing his rock hard erection. “You do know we’re not actually getting out of here today.”

“I know,” Giles replied with a soft moan before initiating another round of lovemaking. “But, now I think we should take advantage of our wedding night.”

Buffy laughed. “Oh, I wholeheartedly agree, _husband_.”

_~Fin_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written for Summer of Giles 2020. Thank you for reading!


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